


The Mysterious Tail of the Dragon's Curse

by adaille, Alessariel



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fairy Tale, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Angst, Arranged Marriage, Canon Typical Violence, Castiel Has Magic, Castiel's healing cock, Consent fully given despite Cas being unable to talk, Creature Fic, Curses, Dean Whump, Dean has a Cas kink, Dean has a Size Kink, Dragon!Castiel, Endgame Castiel/Dean Winchester, Fairy Tale Elements, Hannah is a good person, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, John Winchester's A+ Parenting, LITERALLY, M/M, Misunderstandings, Mutual Pining, Nonbinary Hannah, Poor Dean, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Prophecies, Rough Sex, Sam is only mentioned and he's glad to not be present for this story, Top Castiel/Bottom Dean Winchester, Unsafe Sex, Zachariah Is an Asshole, cursed!Castiel, dumbasses in love, hurt!Dean, idiots to lovers, prince!castiel, sex with a dragon, sex with feelings, shifter sex, so is michael, unexpected plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-16
Updated: 2020-02-25
Packaged: 2021-03-12 18:34:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 30
Words: 21,119
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22758865
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/adaille/pseuds/adaille, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alessariel/pseuds/Alessariel
Summary: Life as a cursed prince isn't all bad. At least Castiel has plenty of fresh air, more freedom than he’s ever experienced at court, and he gets to see his childhood sweetheart, even if it's always from afar. Life as a part-time dragon is really pretty tolerable—until it isn’t. A moment of carelessness brings disaster and misunderstandings, but also a chance for reunion.A very NSFW fairytale in which Castiel is a dragon, Dean hates potatoes and Father Zachariah (a lot), and Castiel's magically acquired body parts play a vital role.*  *  *It's been three weeks, four days, and a little over six hours since Castiel last saw Dean.And it‘s been three years, four months, six days, and three hours since Castiel last saw Dean with human eyes.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 51
Kudos: 217





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Ada: I'm very happy to share this story my favorite co-author and I drafted back in...August, was it August?? (Guys, it was August). I've been in a bit of a bad spot with my writing, but Aless always brings me out of it. This was meant to be a quick PWP, but nothing is ever simple with the two of us. I hope you all love these two idiots in this as much as we do.
> 
> Aless: Writing with Adaille is always so much fun. No one else brings out my prolific side as well as they do. We wrote this live on the profound bond server in... two or three days, I think? It was incredible. Since then, the story has been edited and polished quite a bit, to make it smoother and more coherent. So even if you were there for the initial writing session, you may discover some new stuff.
> 
> This story is **finished** and will be posted in installations of roughly 2000 words a day, which may mean one or more chapters depending on their length. So check back often and let us know what you think and how you like our story!

\- Castiel -

It's been three weeks, four days, and a little over six hours since Castiel last saw Dean.

And it‘s been three years, four months, six days, and three hours since Castiel last saw Dean with human eyes.

He used to see his childhood friend every day, used to collect stolen moments in the garden with him the way his cousin Gabe still collects sweets. Those moments away from Castiel's watchers and Dean's dad were long ago, but they've only grown more precious to him, hoarded like a warm spot in Castiel's soul. Not yet faded, only worn soft at the edges from use.

He can feel the absence of his friend like a poorly knitted bone, healing under his skin, or maybe it's only the _ need _ building again, each time coming faster and faster on the heels of the last. Whether it's a quirk of the curse or not, it makes no difference. Either way, his parents will have some of the more trusted guards bustle him off to the outskirts soon.

Either way, he'll be able to see Dean, even if it's from a distance. Even if it's like _ this. _

Even if he can't let Dean see _ him. _

* * *

It's always gone the same way, ever since that fateful day in the woods when King Chuck had slain the powerful evil dragon Asmodeus and with his dying breath the dragon had cursed Chuck's offspring, his only heir. It starts as an itch, building under Castiel's skin, building and building until it's rippling and burning, fast growing painful unless he gives in and lets the curse run its course.

His parents had tried everything they could think of to get rid of the curse, summoned every sorcerer in the kingdom, but no one had been able to lift the dragon's curse. The royal family had even journeyed to visit the famed oracle Pamela, but no one had been able to understand the Enochian prophesy she'd channeled, no matter how many scribes attempted to translate the words. Her smirk at the time was equally confusing.

After much grief and deliberation, Chuck and Naomi had finally given into the inevitable. An old tower way outside of the city had been converted into a hold for Castiel, to stay there whenever the curse demanded its price. In the first year, the itch, the burn, the change came but once, but after that first time, it was as if something unlocked. Soon each change was coming mere months apart, and Castiel dreads (and hopes) it will be less than these weeks between before much longer.

By now, the guards tasked to escort him there under a vow of silence are used to the procedure. They arrive not a moment too soon, because Cas feels like he will burst at any second if he doesn't give in to the curse.

It's the wrong kind of agony, but there's excitement, too. As the long miles pass, carrying him ever farther from his day-to-day existence, ever farther from diplomacy and arranged marriages and dances, ever closer to delightfully dusty corners and soft pillows and dim quiet, well.

Castiel, Maker help him, he’s long since started to look forward to what was supposed to be a terrible, cursed time. But Asmodeus would’ve had no way of knowing what it'd mean to someone who was a captive every day in one body, to suddenly be free in another.

There's something indescribable about spreading his wings and soaring where no one can follow, no one can reprimand him, no one can demand he drink his tea at a certain time or in a certain way. Where no one can forbid him from seeing Dean.

If only he could be truly free, free to choose the life he wants, not merely left alone when he's regarded as a monster.

The gate has barely closed behind him, the guards staying fearfully outside, when Castiel gives up the tenuous hold he barely has on the curse. Over the years he's learned to reign it in for a while, but it takes a lot of strength and concentration.

The need is greater this time. He doesn't even manage to undress, the fabric of his tunic and trousers ripping as the change overcomes him. Castiel can't spare a thought to the loss of velvet and silver buttons, not when his body changes and grows, blue scales spreading over his skin. He growls and screams as the midnight wings rip free from his back, falling to all fours.

Claws sprout from his fingers, and then his tail rips free with another agonized scream. The change is always painful, but Castiel has learned to endure it, even love it for he knows what's to come. 

Finally, the curse has run its course and the newly turned dragon spreads his wings and roars, flames bursting from his impressive maw.

He shivers, his scales rippling under the warm sunlight. The pain of holding back his shift is easing, giving way to the ache that’s always been shaped like Dean.

Castiel doesn’t bother going into the tower through the grand archway added to the topside chamber, big enough to admit his dragon body to the sheltered inside. He doesn’t bother flying to his second favorite perch at the top, or check the supplies left by the guards.

He shoves off from the ground, roaring again with all the things he can’t put into words, and with one, two, three beats of his powerful wings, he’s up and away, the ground slipping far beneath him.

It isn’t a long distance from his tower to the small religious hold where Dean works and lives, not by air, not with his wingspan. He barely has to move his wings, coasting along the cold wind easing its way off the nearby mountains. He drifts higher, closer to the clouds, trusting the foggy mist to hide him from those living below.

To hide him from the very people Dean promised himself to in service those too long years ago, for reasons Castiel has never fully understood. Was it to provide for Sam? To get away from John? Or… to get away from Castiel? The last is just a whisper, a frightening thought, but it's always been there, all the same.

Castiel soars above the clouds, relishing in the warm sun on his scales. His wings beat steadily, powerfully. Up here, no one can tell him not to run too fast, be too reckless, read too much. And most importantly, no one can make him do anything he doesn't want to.

Back home, at his parent's castle, duty awaits in the form of endless lectures, council sessions and, most vexing of all, his arranged marriage to Hannah, heir to the throne of the neighboring kingdom. Castiel knows his duty, but his heart lies elsewhere. He would never put his personal happiness above the needs of his country, but he happens to know that Hannah doesn't want to marry him either. To condemn two people to unhappiness just for the sake of outdated customs seems silly. And to hold Hannah to a promise made before Castiel's curse manifested? 

Surely the betrothal will be broken soon, and he and Hannah can find a different way to work together, even if he still cannot be with the one his heart is set on, not like this.

Deep in thought, Castiel almost overshoots his goal and has to hastily tilt his wings to halt his flight. The temple lies below, on the outskirts of a moderately sized town, amidst gardens and pastures. The livestock, tribute to the temple, always seems able to sense Castiel's approach somehow. The cows start shifting uneasily, the goats are bleating, the horses running around spooked. It makes staying innocuous extremely difficult.


	2. Chapter 2

\- Dean - 

Potatoes. Why does there always have to be so many potatoes?

Dean sets down his knife, working his stiff fingers against the ache that always comes from peeling too many vegetables for too many people. He agreed to come here and work for the priests, to get away from John and the new soon-to-be-happy royal couple, and to secure money for Sam’s future the only way he could. If he’d known there’d be so many potatoes when Father Michael approached him, though…

Dean shakes his head and sighs. He’s just picked up the knife to get back to work, when he hears it.

The roar is too distant, too faint to be sure of, but then...yes! There it is again.

He can’t help the shiver that rattles through him. It’s not like he has much else to look forward to, now that his brother and his best (and only) friend are both lost to him.

He hasn’t seen Sam or Cas in years, not since he came to this forsaken place, but in all honesty, he’d lost Cas months before that. He’d lost him the day a herald came from one of the neighboring kingdoms, one fat with gold but weak of army, offering their heir Hannah as some sort of bargaining chip for peace.

He’d lost Cas the day the king and queen accepted, the day they'd promised Cas to someone Dean hadn't ever even seen.

As for Sam—he‘s too busy studying, too grateful for the opportunity Dean‘s buying for him with his service to have the time to come and see Dean.

Dean pushes down the bitter thoughts much the same way he shoves his pile of potato skins into a basket, then shuffles towards the door. The cook barely looks up from his own work, no doubt assuming Dean needs to toss them outside in the garden.

Toss them he will, but then, if he's lucky...if he's lucky, there'll be a darker splash of blue in the sky, from glinting scales and darker wings and somehow, something that feels like the home he'd once dreamed he could have.


	3. Chapter 3

\- Castiel - 

Castiel alights on his favorite perch, a cliff close enough to the temple that his sharp dragon eyes can see everything going on, even if the people look rather like ants scurrying across the too dry land. 

The first time he'd come here, he'd landed on the temple roof and caused quite a panic. He's learned to be more careful since. Dragons don't really have the best reputation, and he can't very well explain to the people that he's not really a dragon, after all. 

Maybe Castiel shouldn't come here at all. It's selfish of him, to risk being seen, risk causing another stampede, just because he wants to see Dean. Especially when he's not entirely sure Dean would want to see him, even in human form. When he's still not sure why Dean really left, and left Castiel behind.

But Castiel can't stay away. Back when they were still friends, playing in the castle gardens, he'd sneak out every day to see Dean. When caught, he'd get reprimanded for hanging out with a commoner, even though Dean's father John was a huntsman held in high regard, but Castiel had never cared, and ignored their angry words. 

Dean had been his best friend ever since Castiel had rescued Dean from the head cook, Alastair. He'd once thought no one could take that away from them.

Later, when Castiel had realized that his affections ran deeper than just friendship, he'd known his love was doomed from the start, but he'd never been able to stay away from Dean. And then, one day, Dean had disappeared, only leaving a letter behind, asking for Castiel to not come looking for him.

It was that day that Castiel had first learned what heartbreak really felt like.

He would have found a way to go with Dean, anywhere he wanted, if Dean would have only asked. Deep down, he knows it would have been impossible to stay with his friend, but the lie still brings him comfort, even if he's the only one who's heard it. 


	4. Chapter 4

\- Dean - 

At first, Dean thinks he wasn't quick enough to get outside. At first, he thinks perhaps the dragon flew off the other way. The land is wilder to the north, after all. Lots more to do up there, for a dragon. More room to fly.

But then, he notices the way the animals are standing, staring with wide nostrils and wider eyes, staring towards where the trees grow taller, closer to the mountains. He joins them at the fence, careful to watch their legs lest they trample his feet, his hand steady on one of the horses. She's warm, trembling, much the same way he is, but for a different reason.

He holds his breath, his eyes tilted up, searching, searching, and then…  _ there. _

Light flares, glinting off the shine of scales, high up where the clouds obscure part of the sky. There's something moving up there, disturbing the mist hanging heavy far above, heralding a much-needed rain that's more likely to fall on the mountains than their parched crops.

The dragon sweeps in a long arc, still a bit to the north, then heads towards the mountains. Dean looks back at the door behind him, torn between returning to his task and following the beat of wings to the cliffs beyond the trees, but he hesitates too long.

Voices are rising as the priests leave their quiet solitude and contemplation, emerging from doorways all over the temple grounds. He doesn't focus on the words at first, but the tone is distressed, perturbed no doubt by how frequent the dragon's visits are becoming, even if it's only landed on the temple once.

"You have to do something, Michael," Zachariah hisses. "Or it'll burn down the temple one of these days. It's already making the hens refuse to lay."

Michael sighs, shading his hand to look towards what Dean knows to be the wrong direction.

"It'll curdle the milk!"

"I heard you the first time, Zachariah."

"It's only a matter of time until it starts hunting our animals… and then us. You know what dragons are like. They're highly territorial! And this one's been coming here for a long time now. It's obviously nesting close by. Why do you think the land is drying up, and the rain has stopped? It's a sign, an omen!"

Dean listens only half-heartedly, still trying to spot those elusive scales in the distance. He isn't concerned for their livelihood—or their lives. Yes, dragons reportedly hunt livestock and sometimes even people, but Dean figures there’s assholes among dragons just as there are assholes among humans.

"We must offer it a sacrifice!" says Zachariah. 

See exhibit A.

Thankfully, Zachariah's outrageous demand finally tips the scale and the other priests start chiming in, but Zachariah’s shrill voice is still easy to discern among the hubbub. Somehow, Dean doesn’t think Zachariah is thinking of a chicken or some (hopefully unpeeled) potatoes for his alleged sacrifice. 

Soon, there's a loud discussion going on. From experience Dean knows that this might take hours. Hours, where everyone will be distracted.

Perfect.

He walks back to the kitchen, remembering to snatch a basket for an alibi, then quickly makes his way through the northern vegetable patch and the garden for their wilting medicinal herbs. The well worn path leads directly into the forest, towards the mountains where Dean thinks the dragon roosts. 

Being the son of a hunter has its advantages. Dean knows the forest, knows how to move silently and efficiently. Maybe today he'll spot where the dragon is hiding. He knows it's gotta be nearby or the animals wouldn't be so nervous all the time. He just wants to see it from a little closer. Dean knows what he's doing is reckless, but this need to see the dragon for himself is like a pull deep in his gut, a call he can't not answer.

His legs are starting to feel the steady climb when he finally reaches the cliff face, though by air he knows it wouldn't have been far at all. The towering stone would be no obstacle to the dragon with its great wings, but Dean is forced to turn, forced to guess which way he should move along it.

The wind is coming from his left, and there’s a hint of something foreign carried within, a hint of ozone he’s never smelled before but somehow, he <i> _ knows _ </i>. It reminds him inexplicably of Cas, and the way his friend used to go outside before a storm would hit. Cas always somehow knew when a storm was coming, and he wouldn‘t be contained when it hit. Wild, defiant, and with Dean just content to be near him.

Dean's body is turning before the decision reaches his brain.

Dean hears the rush of water before he knows for sure what it means, but soon, he reaches a place where water has worn away the cliff's edge, the softer bits of stone giving way against the onslaught and time. There's a nook there, and though he can't see the top of the cliff on either side, he can see into the little valley where the waterfall has made itself a home. It's beautiful, greener than it should be and heavy with moisture from the falls.

"If I was a dragon, this is where I'd be," he mumbles, shifting his basket to his other arm.


	5. Chapter 5

\- Castiel -

Castiel is disappointed. Spy as he might, he can't spot Dean today. There seems to be some commotion on the temple grounds, he can see a bunch of priests congregating. They seem to be gesticulating wildly. He wonders what is happening, but since Dean doesn't seem to be in attendance it doesn't hold his attention for long.

Sometimes Dean works in the gardens, so that's where he next focuses his attention, but even though there's a few temple servants slowly moving among the crops, none of them have Dean's tousled dark blonde hair or his telltale bow-legged gait.

Maybe Dean's on kitchen duty today. That'd be bad luck, though usually Castiel manages to catch at least a glimpse of Dean every time he visits, even when he's stationed indoors. It's almost as if Dean's drawn outside by Castiel's presence. He doesn't give merit to this ludicrous idea, of course. He takes special care for Dean not to notice him and even if he did, he'd stay well away. Dean's never seen the carnage Asmodeus wrecked on their kingdom because he left before the beast started showing up, but surely even he must have heard that dragons are monsters and bad news. 

John tracked the dragon, after all, helping Chuck and his men find him so they could slay the beast. Castiel doesn't know whether Dean still keeps in contact with his father, but surely he must have heard of that.

Castiel would hope that Dean has the good sense to stay away from dangerous things like dragons. Dangerous things like himself.

Something changes.

He can feel it in the air. There's a scent in the wind and a stillness in the forest that speaks of a presence. Something is close by. Castiel narrows his eyes, studying the valley at the foot of his perch. Some gatherer of herbs and mushrooms, maybe? A lost child? Or something more sinister?

Castiel is coiled tension as he inches closer to the cliff's edge, but the mist of the falling water and the trees below make it difficult to see the ground. His ears strain, and though they're as finely tuned in this form as his eyes, he can barely hear the movement when it comes.

Large, then, too large to be a child, but not large enough to be a deer. Quiet, like a predator.

Like a predator hunting.

His skin prickles with danger. There's always been a risk of this, of someone like Dean's father coming in an attempt to slay him, much the same way the kingdom finally rid itself of Asmodeus. But Castiel won't be cursing anyone.

Castiel bunches his legs beneath him, feeling more like a cat planning to pounce than a snake ready to strike, and maybe that is more apt. He just wants to scare the hunter a bit, maybe knock them over with his tail. Make them think twice before tracking him to his perch again.

Make them think twice before they hunt in the woods where Dean likes to wander, all too easy a target for a stray arrow.


	6. Chapter 6

\- Dean -

Dean's skin prickles, goosebumps rising on his arms and back. He is a hunter by birthright and training and every sense he has tells him that danger is imminent.

And yet.

Underneath the fear, underneath the thrill and excitement, there's still that pull, the one he always feels when he sees those dark scales glinting in the distance, something drawing him towards the dragon, inexplicably. Maybe today Dean will finally find out why.

He leaves the basket by a tree, slowly starting to skirt the valley at the foot of the cliffs. It's possible the dragon is higher up in the mountains, but Dean trusts his senses, and his senses are saying there's an apex predator close by.

He just has to be careful. The dragon is probably hunting, and if Dean's lucky it's already made its kill. He just needs to be quiet, make sure he's downwind. He's tracked large prey before. But he's never hunted a dragon, and he realizes his mistake too late.

Dean creeps around a tree, the treeline in sight. Three more steps and he can finally see the edge of the cliff.

The dragon is magnificent. The beast is at least twice Dean's height, with massive clawed paws and a long sinewy tail. Its scales glitter like a myriad of jewels in the sun and the wings that always looked blue-black from a distance aren’t black at all, Dean finds. They shine with a multitude of colors, like living rainbows. The dragon is beautiful.

The second most beautiful thing he's ever seen, after Cas.

Dean only needs a split second to take all of this in, and he doesn’t get any more than that, because the dragon's head whips around and Dean is suddenly staring into large, expressive crystal blue eyes. He's shocked by the obvious intelligence he sees there. This is not a dumb animal. 

The dragon rears up, wings flaring and bellows in clear warning. Dean gasps, knowing instantly he's been spotted. Was it a sound or a scent or something else entirely that gave him away? Dean will never know, because the dragon's eyes narrow and he roars.

With the roar comes the fire. Dean is already running when the trees behind him go up in flames.

* * *

Dean’s out of breath and gasping by the time he reaches the edges of the temple’s land, his basket forgotten behind him.

As he moves towards the place he was supposed to be, he realizes people are standing frozen, staring towards him, but he can’t breathe, he can’t breathe, can’t think, he needs an excuse, something, anything, but then...they aren’t staring at him.

They’re staring behind him.

He turns, shaky on his knees, expecting to see the great creature bearing down, fear where he never expected to find it, but it's nothing so immediate. It is, however, somehow even more dangerous. Curls of dark smoke are billowing, building and building in strength, the dragon's fire finding a foothold in the parched earth outside the little green valley.

Dismayed cries ring out as people grab buckets, scooping precious water from the wells and the too-low creek, forming a line to dig and wet the earth, lest the flames creep closer and consume them all. Above the din, Dean hears one sharp, bitter voice rising.

"I told you!" Zachariah shrieks. "That creature will be the death of us! It gave us chances to appease it, and you've ignored them all, and now look what it will bring down upon us!"

Dean shivers, joining the line, passing bucket after bucket, hand over hand to those wetting the brown grass near the trees. Now that the shock from the bubble of awe bursting into terror has settled… the fire isn't actually that close. It's likely to starve or be snuffed by the wind before it reaches them. Precautions are still in order, but it's not like it was a direct attack. Not yet. 

If anything, Dean's the one who provoked the creature, but he's the only one who knows the reason for the sudden change in their long truce. His brain is racing, trying to reconcile what he thought he knew with the new reality. The dragon has always been peaceful. Was that its nest? Was it protecting something? Or...or did he frighten it, the way he had that bear cub as a child?

"We need to make a sacrifice!"

Dean scoffs, looking for a shared laugh at Zachariah's madness with the men on either side of him, but this time...they don't seem to be amused.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dun dun dun... the plot thickens. What do you think will happen next? Did Castiel put fire to the forrest on purpose? Will anybody laugh with Dean about stupid Zachariah? Will Dean have to peel more potatoes? WHO KNOWS?  
Keep your eyes peeled for tomorrow's update to find out more!


	7. Chapter 7

\- Castiel -

_ Shit, shit, shit! _

Whoever it was that had tried to sneak up on Castiel, they'd been better than he'd expected. They'd managed to catch him by surprise. 

He didn't mean to set the freaking forest on fire!

He'd just meant to scare the hidden hunter away when he roared in warning, not expecting the outburst of fire. With how dry the underbrush was, it had gone up in flames like so much tinder. Castiel silently curses himself and his poor control on some aspects of his dragon self as he hastily takes flight. He has to try and control the outcome of his mistake somehow.

He hovers in indecision for a moment before swooping down and beating his wings hard, trying to extinguish the fire. At first it seems like the wind is just fanning the flames but when Castiel tilts his wings and changes the direction of the wind he's creating, away from the still unburnt forest and towards the foot of the cliffs, it begins to turn on itself. The burning underbrush is swept away by the strong gale, collecting against the sheer rock, where the mist of the waterfall helps extinguish it.

It takes an hour, some extremely aerobatic flying maneuvers and a lot of determination, but finally the fire is contained. A significant stretch of forest is still smoldering, but Castiel has managed to stop the worst of it, and most importantly he's stopped it from spreading too close to the town and the temple grounds. 

Castiel would never have forgiven himself if his poor control endangered Dean.

Sighing in relief, he finally beats his wings to gain some altitude, then flies towards the temple, determined to see whether he really managed to keep the fire away from it and if everyone's alright.

He needs to see that Dean's okay with his own eyes.

Castiel spirals higher and higher, the effort to gain altitude fighting with his fatigue as he struggles to stay above the cloud level.

The buildings of the temple are larger than they should be beneath him; he beats his wings thrice, driving himself higher even as he casts his eyes downward to look for Dean. To make sure Dean's safe.

He realizes too late that the temple grounds are full of people, and that he's been well and truly seen. Unlike the last two times he flew too low, people aren't shading their eyes and watching him to see what he'll do.

They're screaming, dropping buckets and stumbling over themselves in their haste to get indoors. One balding man has his arms raised, shouting something that sounds like _'I warned you all!'_ over and over. The animals are scattering, picking up on the humans' panic, the horses milling about as if they'll charge the fence line and break through on the far side.

His heart sinks, cold in his chest. The hunter must've come back to the grounds while he was putting out the fire, and spread the word that he was dangerous. They all knew what he'd done, even if they didn't know it wasn’t really a true dragon.

The clouds settle below him now, blocking his view as he widens his circles, trying to peer through the thin spots to find Dean.

There. A small figure breaks away from those fleeing, going to the horses in an effort to calm them. Sandy hair and bowlegs, dressed in simpler garb than the priests.

His heart settles a bit, the action so much like Dean despite its futility. Before he has a chance to change his flight pattern again, to settle the arc closer to see better, Dean's ducked inside the fence, hands raised towards the horses that are pressing one another against the rails.

They whirl as Castiel approaches, rushing past Dean along the fence line, and time seems to stop as Castiel can do nothing but watch one catch Dean hard with its shoulder, spinning him to the ground.

He feels bile rising in his throat, cold in his scales, and for the first time in a long time, he curses the price of his ‘freedom’. He can't even go to Dean, has to do the opposite, because the longer he stays, the more frantic the horses are growing, and the more likely it is Dean will be trampled.

Unless…unless.

Castiel flies closer, landing over Dean's unconscious body, knocking rails free with his tail on his way down. The horses Dean had sought to calm scatter, rushing through the opening he made. Immediate danger averted, he can't linger though, the hunter who had found him no doubt closer than he realizes, and he takes to the air again, worried about the man still lying in the muddy corral.

Dean needs healing, healing Castiel specialized in during his own years of training, but more importantly he needs care from someone with  _ hands. _ There's nothing Castiel can do for Dean now.


	8. Chapter 8

\- Dean -

"...chosen! You all saw it! It's the only way!"

Dean wakes to a splitting headache and Zachariah's shrill voice isn't helping. There's a cool touch on his side and when he blinks his eyes open he sees Samandriel, the temple's youngest healer. Alfie, as he likes to be called, is focused on Dean's ribs, his hands glowing blue as he moves them slowly and methodically. Dean can feel something inside of him knitting back together with a pop, and the pain lessens.

"Wha… What's going on? How long have I been out?" Dean murmurs blearily.

"Shh. Hold still!" Alfie admonishes gently, moving his glowing hands to Dean's temples. After a few seconds the headache lessens significantly and then vanishes entirely. More alert now, Dean sits up when Alfie allows it. He can hear a multitude of voices in loud discussion, some raised in anger, outside what Dean now recognizes as the temple's small hospital tract.

"You've been unconscious for half a sun dial, Dean. Do you remember what happened?" Alfie's voice is laced with clinical curiosity.

Does he remember? Dean groans, his head still feeling a bit scrambled despite the healing. Everything that happened comes back with a rush. The dragon, Dean sneaking out to see it from up close, the fire, the panicking horses…then darkness.

"The horses…are they alright?" is Dean's next question. Alfie looks at him strangely.

"Most of them came back, and we were able to find the missing ones. They're fine but still scared. Dean, do you remember the dragon?"

The dragon? He'd seen it circle above the temple. Was it looking for him? Or was it just angry in general? Alfie's voice had been strange just now. What did the dragon do?

"I…no? Why, what…" Before Dean can ask further or Alfie can explain, the door to the hospital tract flies open forcefully.

"There he is! Seize him!" Zachariah's voice is full of sadistic glee. 

Dean sits bold upright, but before he can move, four of the temple's strongest stablehands have already moved to restrain him.

"What's going on? Zachariah, what the Maker…?" Dean yells, trying to shake their grip. Alfie has stepped back, a sad expression on his face. 

Worst of all, when Dean looks for help, he spots Father Michael standing in the doorway, watching with a serious expression and steepled hands.

_ Oh no. _

Dean fights to walk on his own, but the men have too tight a grip on his upper arms, marching him along towards a room he's only been inside once, the day he arrived years ago. Father Michael's office.

The shades of brown have always made him think of desert and drought. Or maybe that's Michael himself.

Their patriarch doesn't sit now, moving to stand by one of the windows as if he can't be bothered to give the conversation his full attention. Zachariah takes a deep breath, straightening to launch into one of his spiels, but Michael raises a hand.

"What did you do to… _ attract… _ the dragon, boy?"

He says 'attract' as if it's distasteful, but Dean isn't sure exactly what he's asking. How did they find out he was the one who had wandered too close, then drawn the beast back to the temple?

How did they already suss out his guilt, that he was the reason for the fire?

He shifts, starts to open his mouth, but then closes it again. He's seen this before. It will make no difference what he says. They need a scapegoat to make the others feel safe. Someone to blame, and like it or not, Dean isn't blameless here. Still, he doesn't have to go down without a fight.

"It doesn't matter what he did, all that matters is that the dragon chose him!" Zachariah waves his hands, agitation making the veins stand out in his forehead. "How long will you ignore what must be done?"

"The decision has been made, Zachariah, calm yourself." Father Michael sighs, moving closer, his face stern. "I had other plans for you, boy, but it seems we have no other choice."

No other choice? No other choice than  _ what? _


	9. Chapter 9

\- Castiel -

It almost kills Castiel to have to fly back to his tower, not knowing what became of Dean, but he has no choice.

He's blaming himself for what happened. If he'd paid better attention, had better control, none of this would have happened. The tower doesn't really have enough space for a full grown dragon to pace, but Castiel still wears the battlements thin, unable to calm down in his worry.

The temple is famous for their healers, he remembers. Surely Dean is in the most capable hands, even if those hands aren't his own. There's nothing he could have done.

Castiel almost takes flight at least three separate times, determined to go back and see for himself.

But how would he do that? He'd only make things worse for Dean. He's to blame for this mess in the first place. If he hadn't gone to spy on Dean…

It'll be days yet before he can go to the temple as _ himself _ to check on Dean for the first time in three years, but...but he _ can't. _

_ Please don't come looking for me, Cas. _

He should have shredded that letter the second he found it, not kept it safely hidden, fraying the corners and wearing the ink thin on those long early nights.

Castiel's thoughts keep churning, uselessly spiraling, until he's convinced himself that Dean is in mortal peril at the very least and also hates dragons now, if he hadn't before.

He thinks of the prophecy and snorts. No one knows what it really means, no matter how many 'sages' his parents summoned, but it had always sounded impossible to him, now more so than ever. It's likely even the most experienced wise men weren't as fluent in Enochian, the language of the dragons, as they thought they were. Besides, they were hearing the words second-hand.

If only he had learned Enochian _ before _ being cursed, he might have better understood the words himself that day.

_ You who holds the dragon’s heart, accept all he has to offer and take it deep inside of you, for only if your emptiness is quelled shall the dragon’s power become the power of the man. _

In his weakest moments, Castiel has sometimes dreamed about the prophecy meaning Dean somehow, no matter how poorly translated it was. Dean has always held Castiel’s heart, from the moment Castiel used his healing magic, his gift, to cure Dean’s broken wrist and the marks on Dean's back left by Alastair's whip. But Castiel had always known his longing was impossible, and now he's gone and proven it.

Castiel vows to stay away from Dean from now on. All he’s ever done is bring his childhood friend and secret love pain. Castiel vows that he'll never see Dean again.

Dean will be better off without Castiel.

His resolve lasts for three torturous hours, then Castiel can't bear it anymore and takes flight, hurrying towards the temple at breakneck speed.

He's not listening for anything in particular, too focused on the beat of his wings against the wind, but he hears them anyway.

People are moving through the woods between the temple and the waterfall where he started the fire, one voice louder than the others. It's a pompous voice he's heard before, and doesn't care to hear again. He's about to move on when he catches a glimpse of the group through a thin spot in the trees.

It's the overweight, balding man, holding an unnecessarily large staff, leading others he's seen but doesn't know, four burly men who are clustered around…

_ Is that… _

He drops closer, passing overhead as low as he can without dropping from the clouds.

It is. It's Dean, but not in his usual clothing. He's wearing white robes, and he looks _ pissed. _

He looks pissed, but he also looks okay. There's no sign of his earlier injury, and Castiel feels the cold panic start to ease, even as it settles into something else. Dean is fine, and yet he clearly isn't. Something is happening.

He flies ahead to land on his favorite cliff, and watches the group below, moving ever closer to where he's hidden, as if they somehow know this is one of his favorite spots.

Are they following the signs of devastation caused by the fire? Or something else?

More importantly, what are they doing with Dean?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, what _are_ they doing with Dean??
> 
> Ada here, lovelies. Those of you who like to know how far into things we are...this story is a little over 21k words. We're about a third of the way through posting! <3


	10. Chapter 10

\- Dean -

Dean is seething. This is definitely worse than peeling potatoes, though the potatoes are a close second.

They're planning to fucking sacrifice him to the fucking dragon like some virgin fairy tale princess! 

It's clearly madness, but Zachariah had been adamant it's the only way to pacify a dragon, and the old scriptures backed him up. A human sacrifice it is.

As for why Dean? Well, that was just his dumb luck. Apparently when the horses spooked, the dragon swooped down and saved Dean from being trampled, marking him as special.

Thanks ever so freaking much.

Dean grumbles under his breath as he's being led to the cliff. Father Michael had forced him to admit that's where the dragon was hiding; he was convinced that Dean had a special connection to the dragon for some reason. Dean had refused to talk at first, but when Michael offered for Sam's tuition to be paid in full for the remaining two years of his studies, he'd been unable to decline the offer.

Dean's fate was already sealed, but if he could at least buy his brother's future freedom…

Sam will be devastated. Alfie had offered to deliver a letter to Sam, hastily penned by Dean's bound hands, so at least Sam will know what happened, but still. Dean's heart breaks just a little thinking about his brother receiving the news. 

They arrive at the valley beneath the cliffs, the once beautiful place a charred ruin. In the middle of the valley stands the blackened trunk of a great oak and that's where Zachariah's henchmen tie Dean. With his hands lashed tightly to the soot-covered wood he stands, facing Zachariah with defiance, his white robes now soiled with ash. What an impractical garment choice for a sacrifice, unless they were keen to collect the torn remnants later to present the bloodstained fabric to Michael... Dean suddenly decides he’s better off not thinking about it anymore.

Zachariah smirks at Dean.

"I always knew you were trouble, Winchester. You and your big mouth," Zachariah says. His voice sounds even more condescending than usual. "Always knew you'd find an ugly end. I'll enjoy seeing you eaten by a dragon. I hope it plays a bit with you before it kills you. I hear they do that sometimes."

"Yeah, fuck you too, you smarmy bastard," Dean says with conviction, smirking at the way Zachariah colors with rage. After all, there isn't really anything worse the priest can do to him. Dean has nothing to lose, now.

Zachariah narrows his eyes and sneers, but turns without an answer, raising his silly staff.

"Oh Dragon!" he intones loudly, voice echoing in the valley. Dean can't understand much of the rest because Zachariah has switched to Enochian, the language of the priests and oracles and, if lore is to be believed, the language of dragons as well. Dean's picked up bits and pieces over time, from temples and from one wild night with a lady named Pam, but not enough to understand all of Zachariah's pompous speech. The meaning is clear enough though. It's an offering.

An offering. Speaking of Pam...what had she said that night, all those years ago? She'd been teasing him about having the gift of foresight, and had said, one day he’d meet someone who’d really fill that emptiness inside of him.

Zachariah's voice pitches ever louder, his hands and staff waving ever higher. Dean hopes the dragon's hard of hearing. Or has moved on. Maybe found a juicy deer to snack on. Maybe if it fails to show up, Michael will see the madness in this plan and let Dean go after all.

Dean's hope lasts all up until he hears the telltale sound of mighty wings.

The ground shakes somewhere behind Dean, and his knees go out from under him for the second time that day, the ropes catching his weight.

Even straining against his bonds, he can't twist to see behind him, the oak's girth blocking his view. Instead, he watches the blood drain from the face of the men who escorted him as they back up a step.

The dragon roars, moving forward until its body is alongside Dean, wings tucked close to its body. It opens its great maw, and Dean braces against another roar, or worse, a burst of fire, but then….

"UL! OL TRIAN GIGIPAH VOVIN IALPVRG GI! GI IP TELOC MONONS! OL BANS!"

The four men who drug him through the forest turn and flee, scrambling over themselves, hands over their ears. Dean feels moisture from his own, the searing pain having built in waves of pressure with each word until suddenly it's all muffled, and he knows his ear drums have ruptured from the force of it.

Zachariah isn't doing much better in the face of a dragon's true voice, his magic too weak and sickly yellow to do much more than keep his own ears intact as he exchanges timid words with the dragon.

Dean fights his bonds again, needing to cover his ears, trying not to scream, but then, the dragon's tail whips out, and he thinks it's going to strike him, going to hit him, going to punish him for his insolence with something other than fire, but. But then.

It slows, just before it reaches his arm, the tip coiling gently, tenderly, brushing then wrapping itself around his wrist. Warmth traces up his arm from the contact, electric flames lapping his skin, his muscles, his bones, the very inner parts of his body that make him who he is. It's healing energy, he realizes as soon as it reaches his head, his ears beginning to itch on the inside even as their voices raise again, the dragon's sounding less and less like broken glass and static and pain, and more like…

More like…

The cadence of it teases at his memory, but it doesn't make sense, Dean's never heard a dragon speak before, and yet, somehow, he _ has _ heard it. It's as if he knows something he's forgotten, but he never knew it to forget.

The heat flushing into him through his wrist distracts him from what sounds like the dragon dismissing Zachariah, and Zachariah refusing to leave. This is familiar, too familiar, and it's making him ache, making him remember the things he's lost. The person he lost.

Dean's been healed by many people, but Cas only ever healed him once, after Alistair finished with him. Cas had touched his wrist the same way then that the dragon is now, and it had felt like this, Castiel's energy different from any others he's ever felt, as different from Alfie’s as the sun is different from a matchstick, as if Castiel's magic was resonating on the same frequency as his very soul.

Castiel's healing was different from the others, but the same as this.

How?

The dragon roars again, wings flaring wider and then "GI PARM!" pours from its lungs like wrath. It snakes forward and snatches Zachariah's staff between its teeth, breaking it in half even as the long tail maintains contact with Dean, funneling protective magic into him. One of the dragon's front feet sweeps out, cuffing Zachariah and knocking him to the ground, a trickle of blood trailing from the priest's ear, his eyes wide.

This time, Zachariah gets the hint and runs after the others, robes catching around his knees and almost toppling him to the ground as he goes. The dragon puffs out a wisp of flame, catching the tips of his robe on fire, causing Zachariah to shriek and stumble as he smolders.

The dragon removes its tail from Dean's wrist, but doesn't turn to look at him, its wings tucking closer to its sleek body in a gesture Dean doesn't understand.

He should be enjoying the reprieve, but he can't stand the suspense. One way or another, he just wants this over. "So, uh, what...what now?"

If only his voice hadn't cracked and gone up an octave on that. If only he hadn't sounded like a terrified child. He tries again, summoning everything from inside that makes him a Winchester. He tries again, thinking of anything and everything but Sam and Cas, and how he could very well never see either of them again. 

"Hey, dragon? Whatcha gonna do with me?"

The dragon turns, slow and careful in its movements, eyes almost closed and snout down, wings somehow even tighter in, tail wrapping around as if it's trying to make itself smaller. Less fearsome.

"What now?" Dean asks again, softer.

The dragon opens its eyes, and Dean is staring into blue. Blue, and he's falling, he's falling because up close, he would know that sharp, intelligent gaze anywhere. How did he miss this, before? There's only ever been one person with eyes that particular shade of blue, blue, blue in his life, and Dean hasn't seen him in years, and it's impossible, it's completely and utterly impossible, and yet…

And yet, he knows.

Everything clicks into place, and he _ knows. _

"Cas?"

The dragon's tail flicks, a twitch of acknowledgement, and the creature nods.

_ Cas _ nods.

"But… how?" Dean asks in bewilderment. He still can't quite wrap his mind around the idea that the dragon, this dragon, the one he'd admired from afar so many times, the one that set fire to the forest, is really Cas. The last time he'd seen the prince, Cas had been freshly engaged and busy studying healing magic under Joshua's tutelage, not… this.

"Is it really you?" Dean gazes deeply into those huge blue eyes and knows the answer before the dragon miserably nods a second time. Even if he hadn't recognized the touch of Castiel's magic earlier, even if he wouldn't recognize those eyes among thousands, Dean would always know Cas. Now he understands why he felt drawn to the dragon.

"You didn't mean to set that forest on fire, did you," Dean asks, raising an eyebrow. The dragon makes a whining noise and hangs its head like a scolded dog. It's almost cute.

Well okay, it _ is _ cute. If you can call a 15-foot killing machine that can breathe fire cute.

No, no, no, not a killing machine! This is Cas! Cas wouldn't ever hurt someone unless he got attacked first, Dean reminds himself. 

"So… can you turn back? Into you? I mean, you haven't always been a dragon, have you? I'm pretty sure I'd have noticed that." 

Cas opens his maw and Dean braces himself for another wave of pain, but luckily Cas seems to remember just in time that his dragon voice is a little too much for fragile human eardrums. He snaps his mouth shut, stomping his hindleg in such obvious frustration that Dean can't help but smile.

Suddenly Cas snorts and vanishes from Dean's limited visible area. Dean freezes when he feels sharp claws against his skin but the claws slide against him with utmost care and suddenly Dean's hands are free. He falls forward with a soft "Oof!", but a blue-scaled tail catches him before he hits the ground. Dean rubs his wrists where the ropes cut into his skin and feels Castiel's healing magic wash over him again. 

"Thanks, Cas," he says with real gratitude. 

Cas comes tromping back once he's sure that Dean can support himself, and Dean wonders what the hell will happen next.

He does not expect Cas to slowly lower himself to the ground and extend a wing. It almost looks like…

"Wait, you want me to get on your back? Why? Oh no no no, you can't mean that, Cas! You want me to ride on your back?" 

Cas gives Dean an unimpressed stare that pretty clearly communicates how redundant Cas thinks Dean's being. Dean sighs. Cas had always had that way about him, likely part and parcel of his royal blood and upbringing, never failing to get the people around him to do as he wanted. Dean had been no exception, giving way to a single raised brow time and time again.

Since Dean doesn't really have any bright ideas about what else to do—he can't very well head back to the temple now, can he—he reluctantly starts the climb up Castiel's impressively muscled foreleg, using his extended wing as a handle. It's easier than it looks, especially with Cas helping. 

"Alright you great big lizard, I'm riding on your back. What's next?" Dean grumbles and then hastily grabs a hold of the spikes adorning Castiel's neck as the dragon moves and gets up. Dean marvels at how warm Cas is, and how smooth his scales feel. Castiel's wings had felt like velvet too, almost soft to the touch. He was just as stunning in this form as he'd been in his human body.

"Cas, where are you taking m… OH BLOODY HELL NO!" Dean screams because suddenly Cas is starting to cross the valley in great big leaps and just when Dean thinks it can't get any worse, Cas flaps his massive wings and…

They're airborne. Heading right for that sheer cliff face.

"Cas! Massive wall of rocks ahead! Pull up pull up pull uuuuup!" 

Cas does exactly as Dean told him to, he pulls up and Dean throws himself forward and flings his arms around Castiel's neck, clinging desperately and squeezing his eyes shut, but the image of the cliff falling away beneath them will forever be burned into the back of his eyelids.

And here Dean had thought the day couldn't get worse after being offered as a sacrifice to a dragon.

The ground drops as fast as Dean's stomach, his legs and arms tight around Castiel's body as his great wings flap, carrying them higher and higher. They clear the cliff, and then Cas levels off, wings spread, coasting on the wind.

Dean's grateful when they pierce the cloud layer. It's easier, not being able to see how high they are. Having nothing to look at has an unforeseen side effect, though.

Without the distraction of the ground, there's just Castiel's glinting scales beneath him, hugged warm and tight against his body, pulsing and flexing with each movement of his body.

The motion of his wings and tail is making Cas undulate beneath Dean, against him, between his legs and against his chest, and he really does not need this right now. It's been enough of a day already.

The warm smooth friction would be bad enough, but it's _ Cas. _ It's Cas, and he hasn't seen Cas in ages, and Cas is engaged, and he's a dragon, and...wait.

If Cas is a dragon, _ is _ he still engaged?

Before he has time to think any further, Castiel dips down, mist parting around them to show a large tower beneath, and he closes his eyes tight again.

The landing is surprisingly gentle compared to how loudly Cas had landed in the clearing, and Dean wonders for the first time how much of the noise Cas was making was for show. He slips off sideways, rolling onto the ground and staring at the sky he just departed from.

Cas huffs and whips his tail, but stays silent. Dean wishes he'd studied more Enochian at the temple, rather than picking up a word here and there by exposure from others using it.

He has so many questions, needs to ask them all at once, and yet, he almost can't pick out a single one to ask first. It's just…

"Has it really been three years?"

Cas tilts his head, and the gesture reminds him so much of human Cas it aches.

"Well, I suppose it hasn't been that long, for you. I've, uh, I've seen you around. Flying, from time to time. Guess you've covered a lot of ground, haven't you?"

Cas tilts his head the other way, then inclines his head carefully, blue still trained on Dean.

"Right, yes and no questions. Um."_ Did you miss me?_

Fuck, he can't ask him that. But now that it'd popped into Dean's head, he can't think of anything else. Had Cas missed him?

No. No no no. He should ask him about his engagement. About this tower. About what happened. About...about…

_ About whether or not he missed Dean. _

Dean shakes his head to clear it. Everything's too cloudy, that's all it is. He can't focus. He's on reserves, crashing from the adrenaline. The long hike, the fire, the water buckets, being knocked out, drug through the woods, sacrificed, flying...when did he even eat today?

"I don't suppose you have any food around here, do you? I never got to eat all those potatoes they made me peel which is a frickin' injustice, if you ask me."

Cas perks up, and with the rustle of wings and whip of a tail, he's gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dean bby, everyone can see you‘re thirsty for Cas. Don‘t even try to hide it.
> 
> Aless here. This is the translation for the Enochian in this chapter:
> 
> *"UL! OL TRIAN GIGIPAH VOVIN IALPVRG GI! GI IP TELOC MONONS! OL BANS!"*
> 
> „ END! I SHALL BREATH DRAGON FLAME YOU! YOU NOT DEATH HEART! I DEFEND! or nicer: „Halt or I‘ll burn you to a crisp with my dragonfire! You will never hurt my heart! I will protect him!“
> 
> and **GI PARM!**
> 
> means „YOU RUN!“
> 
> Ah Cas. Such a poet.
> 
> So what will happen next? Will they actually talk at some point? Will Cas return with food? Will there be potatoes for Dean to peel? Will I ever get tired of the potato jokes?
> 
> Not likely. Please leave a comment if you enjoy the story, we hoard comments like Cas hoards pictures of Dean.


	11. Chapter 11

\- Castiel -

Castiel can't believe his good fortune. Not only has he managed to get Dean away from those awful men who were going to sacrifice him to a dragon, Dean also seems pleased to see him.

Castiel doesn't even want to think about what might have happened if it had been any other dragon than himself, and he regrets for a moment not actually making good on his threat to roast that despicable priest. He'd probably barely been singed by that tiny bit of flame.

He swoops down towards the forest, sharp eyes tracking any movement below. There, a rabbit…no, too small. Maybe that doe over there? No, she has a fawn. He also spies the majestic buck that seems to be the reigning king of this particular bit of forest, but that seems a bit like overkill, literally. 

Castiel finally spies a couple of fat boars that look perfect for what he has in mind. He makes short work of two, the others running away squealing in terror. Castiel carefully takes hold of the carcasses, then makes his way back to the tower, with only a brief stop at the river to wash the boars clean.

When he returns he expects to find Dean where he left him. Which is more or less true, but Dean seems to have made good use of the time and looked around Castiel's tower. Dean has always been curious by nature. When Castiel returns, Dean's studying the nest Castiel has built. With a huff, Castiel drops the boars' carcasses on the floor. Dean straightens up at the sound and turns—brandishing a piece of fabric with a mischievous grin.

"So that's where my favorite green tunic ended up," he remarks. If Castiel was capable of blushing, he would be red as a strawberry now. He shyly turns around, not daring to look at Dean.

Nesting hadn't come naturally to Castiel, but he'd figured out very quickly that his dragon body wasn't built for beds and sleeping on the cold stone floor was uncomfortable at best, especially for a hematocryal creature. What had prompted him to add the tunic he'd just so happened to have accidentally stolen from Dean's laundry line one dusky evening did not bear thinking about.

Castiel tries to hide from Dean, not an easy feet for a dragon of his size, but Dean won’t have it. He steps around Castiel until they're face to face again, his smile gentler now.

"Hey, hey, no, don't hide from me. It's okay. I…I missed you too, you know," Dean says with an uncharacteristic tremor in his voice. 

What happens next is even more surprising—he hugs Castiel. Dean’s never hugged him before. He’s more the friendly-shoulder-slap kind of guy. But now he throws his arms around Castiel's thick neck and suddenly Castiel gets a nose full of Dean's warm scent, the one that faded from the tunic over time and that he's never forgotten anyways. 

It's heaven.

With a blissful huff, Castiel melts into Dean's embrace as much as he can.


	12. Chapter 12

\- Dean -

It's only  _ after _ Dean's hugging Cas around the neck, his whole body pressed against him a long line, when he remembers.

Cas...Cas is basically naked.

_ Don't look between his legs don't look don't look do NOT LOOK _

Castiel’s muscles twitch, and Dean lets go of his neck in a hurry, his chuckle sounding too forced to be natural as he takes a step back, smoothing his suddenly clammy hands over his thighs to dry them.

"So." Dean coughs into the silence, Castiel's intense blue eyes trained on him.

Cas is basically naked and Dean RODE HIM here and he brought Dean a boar and he stole Dean's tunic...why did he steal the shirt? Did he...does he...if Dean had stolen HIS clothes it would mean he...so does Cas...shit.

Shit.

"So, um. I guess I'll just...skin and cook this, then. Kitchen?"

Cas tilts his head, indicating the stairs. Right. Guess he, um. Didn't do a lot of cooking with his claws, and his wings, and his…

_ Do not think about what's between his legs. Possibly exposed. Naked. Just, right there, hanging out. Literally. _

"Kitchen it is."

Cas is still watching him, and he can feel his skin reddening, the flush spreading downwards from his ears, to his neck, then his chest. 

"Proportional?" His mouth blurts before his brain catches up.

Cas tilts his head the other way.

"Ah ha ha. What kind of portions would you like, that is?"

Cas shakes his head, then pushes one of the boars closer to Dean.

"All of this for me then? Okay. Right. I'll just. Yeah."

He runs into the door jamb on the way out, boar heaved over his shoulder. _ Smooth, Winchester. Very smooth. _


	13. Chapter 13

\- Castiel -

Dean turns out to be an excellent cook. The boar smells heavenly and Castiel is a bit sad that he promised all of it to Dean, but then Dean takes one look at Cas and prepares the second boar Cas caught for himself and was fully prepared to eat raw too and. Well. It's probably the most delicious thing Cas has ever eaten.

They sit together in companionable silence, the fire in the large fireplace flickering and chasing away the coldness of the approaching nightfall. It feels eerily like a date. Well, that is if you disregard the fact that one of them has to eat their food squatting on the floor and with considerably more mess.

Dean fills the time with easy chatter, telling Castiel about his time in the temple. His cooking skills are explained when he rambles about his kitchen duties—he seems to have a deep and abiding hate of potatoes for some reason that amuses Castiel greatly—and he also talks at length about the priests.

Castiel learns that the horrid one he set on fire was called Zachariah and he feels even less sorry for what he did after Dean talks at length about Zachariah's smarmy personality. Father Michael also sounds like a piece of work. While the temple sounds as if it hadn't been all bad, Castiel feels less sorry now for having taken Dean away from that place, especially when he learns that Michael only offered to fully pay for Sam's tuition when Dean agreed to lead them to the dragon.

Dean finally quietens a bit and Cas is only surprised it took him so long to ask when Dean finally looks up and says "So, a dragon. I have a few guesses how that happened. You didn't do this to yourself, did you." 

Castiel vehemently shakes his head.

Dean chuckles. "Yeah, I didn't think so. You've always been pretty great with magic, and it's not like healing is anything close to transformation. So, someone did this to you. A curse?" 

Castiel sighs and nods. He wishes he could talk to Dean, just tell him everything, but it's not possible and won't be for a few days yet. Every time he turns, it takes longer for him to turn back and he knows that his parents fear that he won't turn back at all one day. It's certainly put a dampener on his engagement to Hannah. Castiel has a feeling that Naomi will soon have to find a way to break the engagement off. At least Hannah won't be too sad about it, they've often stated that they'd much rather be on their own. Years ago, when they were freshly engaged, Castiel had come clean to Hannah that he was in love with someone else, and they had in turn confessed that they had no actual sexual urges towards anyone. There had been a time when Hannah had a slight romantic crush on Castiel, but in the end they'd both agreed that they worked much better as friends.

"So, a curse. I have no idea who could have cursed you and you can't tell me so guessing is probably futile. Can it be broken? The curse?" Dean looks tense but hopeful, studying Castiel closely. 

Should he tell Dean about the prophecy? Not that he CAN actually tell Dean about the prophecy, not in this form. But should he even mention the possibility? After all, Castiel has pretty much given up hope. But he can't bear to wipe the hopeful look off Dean’s face. Slowly, Castiel nods.

* * *

"Some special hoopla about moon cycles and waterfalls and one chance every fifteenth moon position?" Dean asks.

Castiel wishes he had an eyebrow to raise in this form, but something in Dean's expression tells him he managed to get the sentiment across without it.

Dean snorts and looks down at his hands then, smiling softly, as if he's remembering something that used to bring him pleasure. Castiel wishes he could ask him what it is.

"Right." Dean clears his throat. "So. Not tied to a time of the year then. A place?"

Castiel sighs, the huff of air ruffling the edges of Dean's clothes. This might take a while.

"Hm. Blood of the one who cursed you? No? Some part of a rare, beautiful creature. Well. You're a rare beautiful creature, I guess that wouldn't work. Would that work?"

He can only stare at Dean in shock, eyes too wide. Dean thinks...he thinks Castiel is beautiful like this?

"What'd I say?"

Castiel can tell the moment Dean realizes, the vague look on his face as he thinks back over his words breaking into shock, then embarrassment as he flushes a bright, appealing shade of pink all over.

"I….I mean...um. Shit." Dean runs his hand through his hair, pausing to tug at the strands.

A memory lances through Castiel, sharp, vivid, a memory of Dean from a few weeks before the offer arrived from Hannah's family.

They'd been pretending to argue, what over he's long since forgotten, but Dean had knocked his shoulder into Castiel's, and Castiel had shoved him back. They'd ended up tussling, and he'd thought Dean had won, pushing him to the ground and pinning him, when he'd reached up and grabbed a fistful of Dean's hair.

Dean had startled, and he'd managed to roll them over, straddling Dean with Dean's hair still gripped in his hand, pulling him back to bare his throat, and the expression on Dean's face had been mesmerizing. His pupils had blown wide, and he was staring at Castiel's mouth, not breathing, not moving, and Castiel had wondered, had thought perhaps….

But then Sam had come looking for Dean, calling his brother's name, and Castiel had always meant to try something like that again, to see what Dean would do, but then the letter had come, and then. And then Dean was gone.

Dean was gone, and Castiel was like this.

But now, Castiel's like this, and Dean...Dean is looking at him like that again. Even in this form.

He inches closer, shuffling his body one bit at a time as if he could somehow go slow enough for Dean not to notice.

All of the sages his parents consulted could never figure out how to break the curse, and it's not like he's expecting to figure it out with Dean on this particular day. Especially not when Dean is right here, so close after so long, and so warm and so freckled and so pink, it's too much of a distraction. Everything he'd ever wanted, ever lost, it all bubbles to the surface. He can feel himself swelling at the memory, cool air brushing the tip of his cock as it presses out from its protective sheath, and he can't look Dean in the eye.


	14. Chapter 14

\- Dean - 

Dean notices Cas shuffle closer, because of course he does. He's the son of a hunter, his observation skills have always been keen. 

Shit. Why would Cas be inching closer like that, and be refusing to look at him, his scales puffing out slightly and wings quivering, unless…

Unless he feels something, too? Unless he liked Dean calling him beautiful?

Cas reaches him, and drops the pretense of not moving to nudge Dean's shoulder with his snout. Castiel's scales are smooth, cool to the touch, his breath warm where it ruffles Dean's clothes as Cas breathes him in. It warms Dean inside, too, and he'd like to pretend it's Castiel's magic, but he knows it's just Cas himself, the contact between them heating Dean's blood.

Cas was always gorgeous, and funny, and dorky, and now he's gorgeous, and awe inspiring, and his voice makes Dean's ears bleed, but his eyes and his magic are still the same, and fuck.

_ Don't think about what's between his legs. _

Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck, Dean looked between his legs. He looked between his legs, and...there's something there, but not what he expected. Cas is half protruding from what looks like a scaled sheath, like...shit, like what snakes have.

It hits him again. Cas is only half unsheathed and still by the Maker there is no way that girth could ever fit inside Dean.

There is no way, but by the bolt of lust that just shot through Dean, his body is completely on board with giving it a try.

Also...Cas is _ half hard. _ From...from what? From being near Dean? From...from nuzzling him? From Dean’s scent? Shit. Shit. Shit shit shit shit _ shit. _

Dean can feel himself twitch, thickening with blood in response. He sneaks another glance between Castiel's legs, and Cas catches him this time, those blue eyes pinning him in place as he pulls his head back slightly.

_ Shit. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ada here! I should've ended today's posting on the last chapter, but this one was short and Aless wasn't here to stop me! ah ha ha ha _*ahem*._
> 
> Things will be heating up here soon! Might be time to check the tags if you didn't before, and you haven't figured out where this is going yet. <3


	15. Chapter 15

\- Castiel -

Castiel is watching Dean now, keenly and closely and he notices things. Like the way Dean's pupils widen. How his eyes keep flicking down, towards a certain part of Castiel's anatomy. When he first turned, Castiel had been very grateful that dragons have sheaths to keep all of his dangly bits from flapping about in the open. Now though, he's suddenly acutely aware of the fact that in this body there's really no hiding the fact that at the thought of Dean, warm and close, Castiel's cock has started to thicken with blood, enough that over half of his length is exposed, pressing outward from the scales that normally hold him contained.

Dean should be disgusted. Horrified, even. By all rights, he should turn his back on Castiel and walk away. 

But Dean does none of these things. Instead his cheeks flush delectably, his pupils widen even more and—yes, a short evaluation confirms it, there is now a notable bulge in Dean's breeches.

To say that Castiel is astounded would be the understatement of the century. 

How can this be? Aside from that one wrestling match, Dean has never shown any signs of being attracted to Castiel. But now… Castiel sniffs and he can smell Dean's arousal, his dragon senses so much keener than any human’s.

Dean’s clearly aroused. By Castiel’s dragon body.

Just to test this theory, Castiel shifts his stance a bit, so that his rapidly emerging cock becomes more visible. He leans in and cautiously rubs his head against Dean’s shoulder and undoubtedly the smell of arousal intensifies.

Holy shit. Dean wants to… he wants to have sex. With Castiel. As a dragon.

Castiel can’t really grasp it. Does that mean that Dean’s only turned on now that Castiel is altered? Is he attracted to Castiel’s scales, and the size of his, er, dragon bits? Castiel can’t really think of another explanation.

But what does it mean? Should he take advantage of Dean’s, uh, fetish? He’s wanted Dean for so long. But if Dean doesn’t really want Castiel, if all he wants is to fuck a dragon, any dragon…

Well. That would still mean Castiel gets to touch Dean. 

Maybe having Dean in what way he can will finally cure Castiel of his hopeless crush. Fuck it out of his system, so to speak. If Dean is amenable…

Castiel rumbles quizzically, his tongue flicking out against Dean’s skin, tasting him for the first time. Asking in the only way he can if this is okay, if this is really what Dean wants.


	16. Chapter 16

\- Dean -

Dean’s not sure what he expected to happen after Cas caught him sneaking a peek, but for him to basically expose himself, to give Dean a better view, to _ nuzzle  _ him?

Perhaps he fell when Cas took off, spiraling up the cliff face. Or maybe he never even made it that far. Maybe it was another dragon in the valley, and his dying brain is just creating this alternate reality where… where…

He pinches his own arm, and Cas huffs out a breath, nudging him again. Dean can't help it, he leans closer, stroking Castiel's smooth muzzle even as his eyes track down to where Cas is hanging half out of his sheath, heavy between his back legs. This time, he doesn't pretend.

Cas swells under his gaze, thickening impossibly further, even while pressing into Castiel's side reminds Dean of their once innocent, once casual touches. An arm thrown around broad shoulders as they walked, a cuff beside his head when a joke hit too close, no one else ever allowed to be so familiar with the prince. He hasn't touched or been touched the same way by anyone since.

He realizes now it was simply that the casual brushes of hands and shoulders never mattered with anyone else. And this, the not so casual touches?

It definitely never mattered like this with anyone else.

For the last three years, Dean thought he couldn't have this, not with Cas. Even before, when he wasn't lost in fantasies, he'd known Cas wasn't for him. But now? Cursed, cast out to live the rest of his days in a tower on the outskirts of the kingdom?

And as for Dean, he's supposed to be dead. No one is going to come looking for him, except maybe Sam, and he can get word to Sam somehow. No one's going to miss him if he stays here with Cas. If he keeps Cas. They can live here, take turns hunting, or even lose themselves in the mountains as long as Cas doesn't mind Dean walking instead of riding on his back.

Possibilities open in front of him, making his head spin and his breath catch. He'd always pictured being with Cas as a human, but if this is the only way that Cas can be his? He could be okay with it.

He bites his lip as Cas twitches under his watchful eye, now fully erect. Dean palms himself, feeling his answering hardness. Yeah. He could be okay with it. More than okay.

It's still Cas.

Dean takes a few steps back, feeling shy but keeping his hands as steady as he can as he pulls off his tunic. "You want some help with that?"

He was trying for coy, but he missed a bit, his voice betraying how much this matters to him. Cas tilts his head in a rather enthusiastic nod anyhow, and Dean can't help but grin. They're gonna do this, then. All those years growing up together, all those years apart, and he could be minutes away from finally knowing Cas as intimately as anyone ever has.

His only regret is the fact that he'll never feel Castiel's hands on him like this, never feel them tugging in his hair again. But as a human, Cas and his touch had both been promised to someone better than Dean anyway. It was never to be.

Even if they ever break the curse, it's not like Cas will stay with someone as lowborn as him afterwards, so yeah. Best not to think about Castiel's hands. But he's not going to worry about that. It could take years, with Cas not even able to tell him where to start. It's clearly already taken three, and other people better and smarter than Dean surely tried.

It's selfish, but he can't help but think it's an acceptable trade.

He'll keep Cas as long as he can.


	17. Chapter 17

\- Castiel -

Castiel could almost believe that this is a dream, or an incredibly realistic rendition of one of his fantasies, if not for the fact that he's still a dragon. He never imagined this happening with Dean while he was trapped in his dragon form. 

He also could never have predicted that hitch in Dean's voice. In Castiel's fantasies, Dean is always perfectly suave and seductive. Nor could he have imagined how very lovely Dean would look as he slowly bares his chest in the flickering light of the hearth. The dancing flames paint his skin golden and dark by turns, illuminating dips and hollows that Castiel could get lost in forever.

Dean's cheeks are flushed from the meal, the fire and, Castiel has to assume, arousal over Castiel's dragon form. Castiel wants to touch Dean so badly, wants to run his hands all over that smooth skin, but he can't. He wants to kiss Dean, wants to gaze deep into those green green eyes and just kiss him again and again. But he can't, and Dean wouldn't want that kind of human contact with him anyway.

Castiel has to work with what he has. So he watches as Dean reveals more and more of his skin, until the man Castiel has dreamed about for so long is finally bare before him, in all of his glory. Oh, and what glory it is. Dean's hard muscles, honed by labor, and his smooth golden skin broken by a few scars. Dean's freckles, so lovely on his face, also feature across his shoulders and his clavicle and Castiel wants to count them all. The imperfections make Dean impossibly more beautiful.

Dean stands before him, trembling faintly, his cock flushed, swollen and heavy between his legs and Castiel shivers helplessly, assaulted by so many possibilities all at once. He wants to give Dean everything.

"Touch me, Cas. Please," Dean says and how could Castiel ever resist that? 

He carefully moves closer and rubs his snout against Dean's firm chest, taking in Dean's scent once more. Instinctively, Castiel's tongue darts out and flicks over Dean's skin. Dean flinches, but before Casiel can start to panic he laughs and says, "That tickles!"

Castiel snorts and licks a broad stripe over Dean's chest, catching his left nipple. Dean shudders, eyes closing briefly. It gives Castiel an idea. It's filthy and perverted, but if he gets to have this but once, then oh, he plans to have everything. 

Gently, Castiel nudges Dean towards his nest. It only takes a moment for Dean to catch the hint and walk an unsteady line towards the heap of soft materials Castiel has assembled. Castiel supposes it might have been an attempt at a seductive swagger, so he nudges Dean a bit harder. With an undignified squeak Dean falls over, face-planting into the nest. Castiel chuckles deep in his chest and doesn’t waste any time, zeroing in on his target.

He nuzzles the shapely dip of Dean's spine, then moves lower, huffing a hot and humid breath across Dean's spectacular ass. Castiel's known for years what treasure Dean hides beneath his breeches, from that day where they went swimming in the lake and he caught more than a few good looks. But to see it now, the two firm globes right in front of him, is still a revelation.

Tentatively, he allows his tongue to slide down Dean's back and into the crack between Dean's cheeks. Listening all the while for any kind of discomfort or protest, but Dean just sighs and relaxes bonelessly into Castiel's nest, as if this is all he ever dreamed of.

The tip of Castiel's tongue flicks over Dean's hole. He tastes muskier here, different from everywhere else, but Castiel still likes it. Parting Dean's cheeks with his snout, Castiel barely manages to catch a glimpse of Dean's tight little pucker and he wonders. Does Dean really… does he really wish for Castiel to, ah, penetrate him? 

Because Castiel has taken a look between his own legs on one of those long early nights when memories of Dean wouldn't leave him, and he is honestly not sure how he will fit once he's fully unsheathed. He's not innocent about the intricacies of sex, but he also studied physics and there’s laws for that kind of thing. 

It was expected of a prince to learn his way around while he could, and not a few of the sons and daughters of courtiers had been perfectly willing to help Castiel out. He'd never taken one of them up on the offer, as it had never felt right, but he had listened to the tales of their exploits, and then his cousin Gabriel had taken it upon himself to really 'educate' Castiel. As Gabriel has the gift of visions, that education had been a little more vivid than Castiel would have preferred. Now he's glad for it though, because he knows that in order for him to fit, a lot of preparation will be necessary—and Castiel has no hands. 

While he ponders the problem, his tongue lavishes Dean's ass, flicking over Dean's hole again and again and finally probing inside. A moan has Castiel freezing for a second, but it is clearly a good moan and Dean is slowly undulating against the fabric in Castiel's nest, pushing his ass a little higher towards Castiel as if seeking more contact. Suddenly, Castiel has an epiphany. His tail! The tip is slim and limber enough to work Dean open and prepare him for Castiel's girth.

Plan made, Castiel sets to work, allowing himself to really experience Dean. Licking, scenting, marveling at the blissful heat inside of Dean's body. Oh, he can't wait to bury himself in Dean, bask in Dean's warmth and finally be as close to Dean as he's always desired.


	18. Chapter 18

\- Dean -

Castiel's tongue has to be a sin, but it's not like Dean was planning to ask for the temple elders' approval ever again anyway.

Dean's only fooled around with the so-called fairer sex (although a few of them could have easily broken him in half, had he ever called them that). He had ample opportunity to experiment with other boys, of course, and Aaron the blacksmith's son had caught his interest on more than one occasion, but it had never felt right. 

He'd thought it was John's opinion at the time, but now he realizes some foolish, hopeful part of himself had always been holding out for Cas. That foolish, hopeful part of him is reveling in Castiel's attention now, and he's happy to let it.

Cas is already much farther inside him than Dean's ever probed with his own fingers, his dragon tongue thick and warm, the perfect blend of firm and soft. He can't help but wonder how similar it feels to another part of Cas. Just the thought of finding out has him flushing hot all over. 

The pointed tip of Castiel's tongue finds his prostate and pauses, pressing, pressing while Dean can only shudder and moan. His brain flips from thinking too much into static, sensation, the push pull of Cas on his body, in his body, the warmth of the fire and warmth of Cas.

"Cas, Cas…" The whine that shudders out of Dean, he barely recognizes as himself. "Fuck, Castiel, please, I need—"

Cas hums, and it vibrates up his tongue and into Dean, resonating, pooling heat in his stomach and thrumming through him as if Dean's an instrument for Cas to play.

Dean's vibrating to the point he almost—almost!—doesn't notice Cas pulling out, leaving him empty, so empty. It's the feeling of cool air in his now slick hole, brushing his tender insides, that lets him know Cas has withdrawn. He's pulling his brain together to protest, when Cas nudges his hips higher, tucking his muzzle between Dean's thighs and pushing against Dean's perineum.

"Cas?"

Another nuzzle, and a swipe of the tongue across Dean's balls, and then he's alone with his rear in the air, presenting himself. He starts to coil up, feeling exposed and ridiculous, when Cas folds his wings forward for a moment, brushing up Dean's sides with leathery softness. It reassures him just enough to hold himself still, then he feels something else, thick and cool and covered in finer scales, sliding in a long long slide up his leg, up his thighs to prod at his entrance.

Dean has just a moment to think _ Castiel's tail  _ before the tip slides in, and oh, it feels so different to Castiel's tongue. It's firmer, and not as slick, the scales catching a bit on his rim, the discomfort grounding him, centering him, ratcheting the heat higher and higher in his blood.

"Cas!" he gasps, his entire vocabulary now consisting of the former prince's name. "Cas."

Warmth pulses through the tail and into him, and he recognizes Castiel's magic for the third time that day, pouring into him, loosening and slickening him further, his body opening for Castiel to slide deeper. Dean's impossibly full, dizzy with it, almost mindless with the pleasure of each scale tip catching on his prostate as Cas works himself in, claiming Dean for himself, ruining him for anyone else. As if he wasn't already ruined for anyone else, years ago.

As if he wasn't happy to be ruined. He doesn't need anyone else, now that he has Cas.


	19. Chapter 19

\- Castiel -

When Dean's body is fully enveloping the tip of Castiel's tail, he has to pause for a second and regain his bearings. Just this, feeling the warmth of Dean's body surround a part of his own, it's almost too much. Blood is pulsing through Castiel's cock, hanging heavy, fully out of its sheath and no doubt purpling between his legs. Castiel groans as Dean's spine curves before him, Dean thrusting his ass up higher as if he wants to invite...

"C'mon Cas, get it deeper… Yes, there!" 

… invite Castiel deeper into himself. It is a move that speaks of a surprising amount of trust and it makes Castiel shudder with hard-to-name feelings. Feelings he'd rather not think about now, because he is trying to fuck these feelings away, thank you very much.

Castiel summons his healing magic and lets it pulse through his tail into Dean's body. The spell to summon a healing ointment was one of the first Castiel had been taught by Joshua. If only his former teacher knew to what perverted use his favored student would put that spell one day...

Not even the thought of old Joshua can deter Castiel's lust though, pulsing through him from where his tail is buried deep inside Dean's body, shimmying deeper scale by scale, right back to his cock.

Castiel breathes hotly over Dean's perfectly muscled back, containing his inner fire only as an afterthought. His tail pushes once more time, deep as it can go, then starts to gently nudge in and out, widening Dean's hole. The sight is obscene, Castiel's blue-scaled tail thrusting in and out of Dean's pliant body, Dean crying out and moaning in wanton abandon with every thrust. A mimicry of what Cas wants to do to Dean, but he doesn't dare just yet. His cock is a fair size bigger than the tip of his tail.

As if the thought could take form on its own, Castiel feels a strange sensation building in his body. The heavy muscles tracing down his tail all the way to the tip pulse and ripple, then bunch all at once, punching a wail from Dean as his back arches in what Castiel hopes is ecstasy. 

Dean's fingers grab the fabrics that make up Castiel's nest as Castiel moves the newly formed knot of muscle in and out, as Dean begins to babble a stream of senseless endearing nonsense, begs and pleads that make the blood rush to Castiel's poor neglected cock. Before he can think better of it, he's removed his tail from Dean’s hole and moved into position. 

Castiel's heavy cock slides between Dean's buttocks and they both moan as one at the sensation. Castiel is so tall that he has to move very carefully because he dwarves Dean in this form, so all his cock does for now is slide and bump against Dean's ass, more or less accidentally sometimes sliding through the crack and over Dean's hole, but it's already the best feeling Castiel has ever had. It's almost enough to... to… oh no.

Castiel can't stop himself. It's too much, and he has too little experience. With a mighty roar, he comes, coating Dean's backside in copious amounts of silvery blue.


	20. Chapter 20

\- Dean -

Everything is going marvelously, Castiel's slick tongue and smooth scales exploring inside him, his magic curling Dean's toes as it floods him, heat sparking in shimmery shudders up his spine. It’s unlike anything Dean ever imagined having with Cas when they were younger, and yet he can’t muster the slightest complaint.

He's barely hanging on as Cas stretches him, as Cas thickens his tail until Dean is impossibly full, almost as if a fist is pumping inside him, the burn tempering the assault on his prostate just enough to help him last. It's almost too much when Cas pulls out for the second time, replacing his tail with his cock, sliding slickly across Dean's hole, tugging and catching against his loosened rim.

Dean's bracing himself to be penetrated by the monstrous girth he'd seen between Castiel's legs, when Cas makes the most obscene, punched out growling roar he's ever heard, one that’s definitely going to be featuring in his fantasies later.

It takes him a moment to catalogue the roar, the stuttering movements of Castiel's hips almost knocking him off balance, the hot splash against his ass, and… oh.

Cas is panting now, whimpering, twitching as he continues to spill across Dean, and well. Dean supposes it has been three years for Cas at least, same as it was for Dean being stuck at the temple. It’s not like Dean’s seen any other dragons flying around the area, and there’s probably not a lot of… well, human freaks, like Dean apparently is.

He feels his arousal sour a bit, his thoughts turning dark, wondering what Cas might be thinking of him, if Cas thinks Dean is weird or pathetic for wanting to be with Cas, any way Dean can have him. He slumps and rolls to his side, pulling away. He should clean himself off, he should… oh.

Soft heat wipes up his back in a long stripe, and it feels good, it feels like, ah, it's Cas, it's Cas, oh shit, it's Castiel's tongue, cleaning his release from Dean's body. Sparks light up Dean's spine again, quieting the poison spreading in his brain, whiting it out in static as Cas finishes with his back and ass, and continues licking, licking, his tongue sliding over Dean's balls, his muzzle nudging Dean’s leg out of the way so he can reach Dean's cock.

He curls his tongue around Dean's length, and it's so much, it's too much, he can't take it, can't bear it, fuck, if he closes his eyes he can picture blue eyes and messy hair and SHIT, Castiel’s tongue is prodding into the slit at the tip of his cock and he's gone, he's gone and it's his turn to spill into the fabrics that make up Castiel’s nest.

Sated, Dean turns onto his back. Castiel's tongue is quick to follow, cleaning him in efficient movements. Cas raises his head when he's done, and feeling Castiel's eyes on him, Dean opens his own. He aches, longing for Cas. Dean's glad he gets to keep him, even like this—he's beautiful and elegant and clever in any form—but, ah, to have Cas taking turns being the little spoon and to hold his hand in Dean's own and to nuzzle Castiel’s dark sex mussed hair while he sleeps.

He's drifting, sleepy and sated, when Cas shifts his weight, his leg splaying to the side and Dean's brain stutters wide awake.

Cas is still hard.

Cas is still hard, and he ruts that hardness against Dean's thigh, rubbing on him gently, still clearly interested in continuing. The polite eroticness of the gesture sends a bolt of lust through Dean, and his own cock twitches in a valiant effort. There's no way he's going to manage to come again this fast, not without Castiel's clearly draconic stamina, but he's game to keep going. He'll catch up.

Dean spreads his legs in invitation, and Cas settles between them, his cock nudging behind Dean's balls, stimulating his prostate from the outside in a way that can only be the happiest of accidents. Dean doesn't even try to hold in his punched out moans, his body sensitive to every movement Cas makes against him.

"Fuck, Cas, yeah, just like that, baby. That's it. Come on," Dean encourages him.

Cas whines again in a high pitched grumble, and this time when his cock catches on Dean's rim, he pushes ever so slightly in, and Dean sees stars. Castiel's magic coils into him again, heating and softening and easing his body, and it's insanity, the way Cas is inside him, so deep and intimate before his cock has even gone farther than the thickest of inches in. 

Dean's brain can barely comprehend how it feels to be penetrated by Castiel's magic like this, but before he can focus on it, Cas slides in a bit further, and he's gone, he's floating, it aches and it's perfect and oh, if only he could stay here like this forever, in Castiel's nest beneath him, he'd never want for anything again. Dean should tell him, he should, Dean can tell he's already babbling something to Cas, but the words are spilling out too fast and too muddled for Dean to focus on, and all he can manage is

_ "Castiel." _

It's an aching sigh, a deep sigh, full of longing and hope and  _ I missed you  _ and  _ I need you _ and  _ stay,  _ and Dean hopes it's enough for Cas to understand what he means.


	21. Chapter 21

\- Castiel -

Castiel has never actually orgasmed in his dragon form. When he first turned he’d had better things to do with his newfound strength and power and later on when the mood struck he just couldn't figure out how to really manage it without hands. It had never occurred to him to use his tongue or tail until he'd been inspired to use them on Dean. Now, the possibilities are endless.

This might explain why Castiel is just as surprised as Dean to find himself still hard after his first explosive orgasm. Cleaning Dean off doesn't just seem like the polite thing to do, after the first lick and resulting moan it also actively becomes very enjoyable. Extremely so, in fact.

But it doesn't take care of Castiel's little not-so-little problem. It feels impolite to just continue in the same fashion, but he doesn't want to stay this way either, so he compromises by gently nudging against Dean. A suggestion, and a request.

Dean's response is breathtaking. Dean doesn't hesitate for a second in offering himself up for Casiel's pleasure. If Castiel wasn't so sure that Dean's just doing this with him out of some weird dragon fetish, he'd be completely floored by the ready acceptance and trust Dean is showing him.

Castiel moves into position as if his body had always been prepared to mate Dean. Castiel's cock finds Dean's hole, relaxed and sloppy with Dean's orgasm, and unerringly slips inside.

It's only the first inch, but already the heat of Dean's body is heavenly. Castiel has to pause for a moment, not just to give Dean time to adjust, but to give himself a moment or he'll spill himself a second time right there and then.

Castiel only wishes he could embrace Dean, stroke his hair while he slips into Dean's body for the very first time, really make love to the love of his life. It's not to be, and this is still spectacular, but Castiel can't help but dream of what could have been, without the curse, and if Dean ever loved him back.

He's careful with Dean, so very very careful. He stops himself so many times from thrusting in that bit more because Dean deserves all the care and all the good feelings, and nothing else. It takes an excruciatingly long time, a torture for both of them if Dean's moans and babbled curses are to believe. Finally, most of Castiel is inside. He's panting hard, flanks quivering with the need to thrust, to take, to own, but he estimates that this is about all of him that's gonna fit into Dean. And it is more than he thought he'd ever have.

Slowly, with utmost control, Castiel draws out. Then thrusts back in.

Dean cries out. Castiel concentrates and channels his healing magic in a way he's never channeled it before. If anyone told him he'd have to use his dick to heal someone one day… Castiel makes sure that Dean's body is taking no damage, uses his magic to determine that Dean's not in pain or danger of being hurt. It's not the wild, reckless sex he wishes he could have with Dean, but he would never risk hurting his lover, so slow and deliberate it is. 

It still feels better than anything Castiel could have imagined. His tongue darts out involuntarily and his tail coils and uncoils in undulating movements behind him and he tries so hard to temper himself when everything inside of him screams to take everything Dean is offering and lose himself in Dean's body. Without that first quick orgasm, Castiel could never have done it.


	22. Chapter 22

\- Dean -

Dean thought that once Cas was inside him, the teasing would be over. If anything, it's worse now, the slow, gentle movements, so much, too much, but still not enough. He's so achingly full, but he wants more of Cas, more of his magic, more of everything.

His hands are restless, trying to find purchase on smooth scales and corded muscle, Cas looming so large above him, inside him. It feels different on his back with his legs splayed vulnerably to the left and right, Castiel's body trapping him in place. 

Dean's long enjoyed his memories of being straddled and pinned during their tussles, and may have used those memories a time or two (or possibly more) (a lot more) to fuel his late-night fantasies, but this is something else.

Cas isn't taking him quickly in a field, or in the stables, or against a tree. He's not experimenting with Dean, or sating his lust with a lowborn of no import. He's making love to Dean like Dean matters, taking him apart a piece at a time with tongue and tail and cock, flooding Dean with his magic and something that Dean thinks might be love. He rides higher and higher on the feeling, his brain floating, almost detached from his body in a state of bliss he can't put a name to.

For this, those three painful years might've been worth it. If he can keep this, it certainly will have been.

Dean never thought he'd ever pick someone, anyone, over Sam, but Cas...he can't picture a life without Cas by his side now. He can't lose him again. Sam...Sam was born for cities, for university courses and intellectual discourse, and he hasn't really needed Dean for anything other than tuition payments in a long time.

Sam will be fine with letters and occasional visits, the same way he has been since Dean pledged himself to the temple.

Cas, though, Cas is out here alone. He's been out here alone for years, and Dean, he's always been happier in the wilder spaces, too. They can explore those spaces together now, and explore each other. Maybe he'll even learn more Enochian, with Castiel's magic to keep his ears intact.

Maybe, eventually, he'll try flying with Cas again. Low to the ground. Over something soft. Or...or over water. 

Eventually.

The magic flooding his body and brain recedes briefly, and sensation floods back in, dropping him into the moment. It's so sudden, so sharp, he feels dizzy, his blood routing south as Cas grinds against him, his scales a delicious friction on Dean's rapidly hardening cock.

It could be the magic, it could be the long self-imposed semi-chastity, or it could simply be the sheer impossibility of Castiel's size, but for the first time since he was a teenager, his recovery period is almost non-existent.

"Cas!" he gasps, his back arching. "Cas, fuck, oh, Cas, right there, baby, yes, yes, YES! Oh, shit, don't stop don't stop please please for the love of everything do not stop please…"

Cas speeds his thrusts, shortening them until he's rocking against Dean's body, grinding him into the nest, and it's better than anything Dean's ever felt, each grind hitting like an explosion against his prostate, his body still wrung out and sensitive from his first orgasm, and oh fuck, oh Maker, he's going to

He's

He

h—

"Cas!"

Cas thrusts again, again, again, until

"Cas-ti-el!" Each syllable bursts from him in ecstasy, in agony, it's so good it hurts, the peak painful and exquisite and fuck 

He's still arching up, spilling himself into the spaces between them, messy against Castiel's belly and against his own, Cas wringing him dry with each rocking pulse and then finally, finally, Castiel's wings flare, tips brushing the walls to either side as he throws back his long, beautiful, graceful neck and roars a conquering roar. A dragon claiming his prize, and Dean can do nothing but lay back in awe as Cas fills him, the hot rush blending with the heat from Castiel's magic.

Dean's never felt so owned, so possessed, so wanted in his entire life.

Yeah, those last three years...to have Cas now, it's okay. It was definitely worth it to get this, he thinks as he slips into a sated haze, barely aware of anything beyond his own goofy smile as Cas slips free, as Cas cleans him, as Cas nudges him to his side and curls against him.

The last thing Dean remembers as he drifts off to sleep is Castiel's wing draping over him, and Dean wrapping his own arm tight around Castiel's tail, hugging it to his chest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aless: So we decided to give you guys an extra long update today so as to not split the smut up into any more parts than necessary. You're welcome!
> 
> Whew. That sure was some explosive peak, so to speak. Will everything be all roses and butterflies between our two lovestruck heroes? Will Dean ever guess what happened to Cas? And is Cas ever going to turn into a human again?
> 
> The next update will bring some answers, but we'd love to hear your theories and thoughts! Let us know wether you liked the story so far and what you envision will happen next!


	23. Chapter 23

\- Castiel -

Castiel slowly blinks his eyes open. Sunlight streams through the room in one broad stripe from the large opening that allows him passage inside. He and Dean are still in shadow, but the light paints the walls golden, speaking of a beautiful new morning. 

Castiel stretches languidly, luxuriously. He can't remember the last time he felt this relaxed and energized. Dean's still sleeping peacefully, his entire body pressed against Castiel's, a long line of comforting warmth. Castiel's never been the big spoon for someone before, but he finds he loves this. Having Dean in his arms, feeling Dean's gentle breathing against his chest…Wait.

Dean is in his arms. His human arms. Castiel is human once more.

Some time last night, after their truly spectacular coupling, Castiel must have turned back in his sleep. It's days early, and he hadn't expected it to happen already, but he has turned mid-sleep before, so it's not entirely unusual.

It gives Castiel conflicted feelings. On the one hand, he can now gently run his hand through Dean's soft hair, touch his lips to the elegant curve of Dean's shoulder, and kiss and worship Dean the way he's wanted to since he came into his sexual awakening.

On the other hand, now that Castiel isn't dragon-shaped anymore, will Dean want him to?

Castiel sighs. It has been too good to last.

He lies quietly with his lover for a long time, trying to get his traitorous heart to say goodbye already, so it won’t hurt so much when Dean leaves. This was supposed to bring Castiel closure, not fan the flames of his feelings even more. He has to respect Dean's wishes above all else, and Dean's always made it very clear that all he wanted from Castiel was friendship, and not even that, when he left all of those years ago. 

When Dean inevitably leaves again, Castiel has to let him go, has to resign himself to living with the memory of what Dean's skin feels like, how Dean sounds mid-sex, wrecked and perfect, how Dean smells and how Dean wakes… oh dear. 

Dean's awake.

Castiel swallows hard and lies very still, hoping for a last moment of respite before his poor heart inevitably gets ripped out.


	24. Chapter 24

\- Dean - 

Dean drifts awake slowly, the delicious feel of _ warm _ and _ solid _ tucked against his back encouraging him to resist the pull to alertness, to stay in the fuzziness just a little while longer.

Two heartbeats later, and he stiffens. Warm? Solid? He's been waking up cold and alone for longer than he cares to remember, what…why…

Shit, Cas. It's Cas. He relaxes again, then stretches his feet, feeling his toes rubbing against Castiel's legs, their feet tangling together…their…human feet?

"Hello, Dean." Castiel's sleep and sex rough voice rumbles close to his ear, even as his arm tightens around Dean's waist.

His human voice. His human arm.

"What the fuck?" Dean tries to twist around, but the angle is poor.

"Good morning to you, too." There's a tinge of anxiety in Castiel's tone, but Dean can't fathom why. Not right now.

He pulls free, propping on an elbow to stare into deep blue, the only thing that's the same. "Cas? You’re…you! How?”

Cas sits up fully, then scratches his head—scratches his head with human fingers, and fuck, why is Dean having such a hard time processing this? He needs some caffeine.

Or alcohol.

Cas turns away from Dean, no longer meeting his eyes. "Um. I turn back. The curse, it ah, it only forces me to turn into a dragon part-time. It used to be months between changes at first, now it's down to weeks."

Dean’s head is spinning. Cas...isn’t always a dragon? Then... "What about Hannah?” he blurts, then feels himself flush. Good job, no way that came out as casual.

_ What about us, _ he doesn’t say.

"Hannah?" Cas sounds much more confused than he ought to be, given he's the one who knows what's going on. Dean's supposed to be confused, not Cas. "I...I guess Hannah and I are still betrothed, but..."

_ Fuck. _ Dean’s head is spinning, and he can tell Cas is still talking, but the words aren’t processing. They might as well be in Enochian again, only they’re making his heart bleed instead of his ears. Cas is still marrying Hannah, so this...this…them…they aren’t…fuck. He was so stupid, of course Cas was never going to be with him. But at least Cas doesn’t seem to realize anything is off, he doesn't seem to realize that Dean is stupid and clingy and useless. Dean can still save this.

"Dean?"

The tremor in Castiel’s voice finally breaks through, and Dean’s gaze snaps to his. Did he ask Dean something? He looks worried. Is he worried Dean is going to tell Hannah he cheated? Is it cheating, if they’re only betrothed by their parents? He shakes his head. Focus, Winchester. "Don’t worry, your secret’s safe with me.”

Like he was going to tell people he was so desperate for a connection with Cas he allowed (begged for!) a dragon to fuck him, and liked it. More than liked it.

"...thank you?" Cas still looks baffled, but he's so calm.

Fuck, how is Cas so calm? It’s not like every day he…oh. Oh, right. Dean assumed Cas hadn’t been working his way through the kingdom because he was a dragon, but he’s only a dragon part time, and he’s hot and strong and a prince and he’s the funniest, smartest person Dean’s ever met. Of course Cas is calm. Dean’s probably just the latest in a 3-year string of one night stands while Cas gains experience for his wedding night, like Gabe and Balthazar and who knows who else. He should’ve known, there’s no way someone inexperienced was as good as Cas had been last night, dragon or not.

It's not like Dean was _ special _ or anything.

Not beyond the fact that he's apparently a _ freak _ in Castiel's eyes now.

"You’re welcome,” he grits out, then disentangles himself from the nest, trying not to think about how he thought he’d be spending a lot more time there than he apparently will be. He starts fumbling with his clothes, dressing as fast as he can. He has to get out of here.

Dean can’t look at Cas, but he can’t look anywhere else, either. Everything he sees hurts. The corner where they ate together, the nest where they…the stolen tunic that he thought might mean something, Cas himself…

It all hurts so much.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :(
> 
> Poor Dean.


	25. Chapter 25

\- Castiel -

Castiel watches in growing trepidation as Dean stumbles out of his nest, one foot still tangled in the green tunic he'd pointed out to Castiel the evening before, before they... he sighs. "You’re leaving?" 

Dean looks like he can't wait to leave, and Castiel can't lie to himself any longer. He can't just watch Dean walk away, not again. No matter how much he tells himself it's the only right thing, it's too much pain for any one person to bear. "You could stay, you know. At least for a little while? Please?"

”What for?” Dean snaps.

Castiel swallows hard. Dean's stand-offish, almost cold, and for a moment Castiel resolves to just let him go. Dean clearly doesn't want to be here, he clearly only wanted to be fucked by a dragon and leave.... but Castiel can't. It meant too much to him, to have Dean here with him, to have Dean  _ under _ him, to have Dean sleeping beside him. "To... to talk? I... I really missed you, you know. I spent a lot of time watching you at the temple. I... Dean, why did you leave, three years ago?"

"Why did I leave?  _ Why did I leave?  _ How can you ask me that, like you really don't know?" Dean finally looks up at him with those so green eyes, now full of anger and sadness and confusion and… what else? "I just… I couldn’t...” 

The words are clearly sticking in Dean's throat, and Castiel casts through his mind, trying to think of what could put that look of devastation on Dean's face. The one thing Dean always cared most about was Sam, had Sam… oh.

"If it was Sam's tuition worrying you so, why didn't you come to me? You know I would have helped. I know you'd never have taken the gold as a gift, but Dean, I could have found a place in town for you, in the castle even, one that pays better than the temple. You... you just left, and I thought... I... I didn't know... why..."

To his chagrin, Castiel feels moisture welling up in his eyes, the memories of that moment when he'd found Dean's letter and realized his friend was gone still painful even after three years.

Dean rubs at the back of his neck, his eyes drifting from the floor to the ceiling, to anywhere and everywhere except the one place Castiel wants them to be—on him. "Yeah, sure. I’d just sit around in some tucked away corner, working a nice little job, watching while you and—" he cuts himself off, pink creeping up his neck and to the tips of his ears.

"Me and...?" Castiel probes, eyes narrowing. He's onto something here, he can feel it. Dean's gotten defensive. If Dean really wanted to leave, he would, and he'd tell Castiel to fuck himself on the way out, too. Dean’s never been shy around him, never until that wrestling match.

Dean slumps. He picks up the tunic, twisting the green fabric. "You and Hannah.”

Castiel pauses and blinks. What does that even mean? Could Dean... had Dean been jealous of Hannah? But that’s impossible... "What does Hannah have to do with you leaving, Dean? I don't understand. Please... I... I have to understand."


	26. Chapter 26

\- Dean -

Something breaks. Cas is too smart to have missed Dean pining. What game is he playing at? Does he just want Dean to say it? 

"Fuck, Cas, what did you expect last night? You were just gonna fuck me and then go back to Hannah and you think, what, I’m gonna stick around and be your kept man on the side or something? Why are you dragging this out?”

"My kept... what... Dean, why would you ever think that?" 

Cas stares at him, but when Dean doesn't respond, when Dean can't find words to explain the churning in his brain and stomach and soul, Cas keeps going. 

"My betrothal to Hannah was always purely political. Even if they had the slightest romantic or sexual interest in me— and rest assured, they really do not— we both would probably have kept lovers. If you had ever told me of your interest... if, if I had ever had the slightest inclination that you.. you..." 

Cas trails off again, and again Dean can't summon anything coherent. He was never the mage between them.

"I would have moved heaven and hell to be with you, Dean. As for now, technically I might still be engaged, but due to the curse, the betrothal's likely to be broken off anyways. Hannah was always more interested in a political ally. They thought, as do I, that weddings are really a bit outdated from a treaty standpoint."

Dean’s brain stalls, then kicks into high gear, and stalls again. "What?” he asks, struggling to reconcile what he’s always  _ known _ with what Cas is saying now.

Castiel gets up from the nest, clearly not caring that he's still naked, but holy shit, he's naked. He walks over until he's standing right before Dean, and Dean can't look away. He's the most beautiful human being Dean's ever seen, with his pink cheeks and his disheveled hair and those fucking blue eyes, and his cock is smaller now, human-sized and soft, but Dean wants to drop to his knees and see if maybe he can get it hard. It’s an untimely thought, but Dean can’t help it.

Castiel gently untangles Dean's foot and lays a hand on Dean's cheek so Dean has to face him.

"Dean. If I had known you felt the same way... that you wanted me as more than a friend, I would have done this a long time ago." And he leans in and gently kisses Dean, the way Dean's dreamed about for more years than bears thinking about.

His lips are a little dry, and soft, moving, moving, moving gentle and slow against Dean's, chaste and tender after what they've done, after what they've been to each other. Dean's mouth opens on a gasp as he sags forward, and Cas catches him against his chest, taking the offering it was clearly meant to be.

Cas dips his tongue in, flicking it against Dean's, tasting him, and Dean can't hold in his moan.

The words finally catch up to him, combining with the evidence of Cas firm against him, firm and hot and oh, fuck. This means… this means…

He does get to keep Cas?

A shiver wracks through his body, and Cas draws back, staring in his eyes, and it's all Dean can do not to cry from the whiplash of emotions he's gone through in the past hour. The past day, really.

"Cas." His voice is raw, but he has to ask. "Does this mean.... What does this mean?"


	27. Chapter 27

\- Castiel -

"I… I don't know..." Castiel is still recovering from how Dean's lips felt, how Dean tasted, from the silky heat of Dean's mouth and the sweet sigh of his exhale after they parted. His brain hasn't really started working again yet. Dean’s not looking as if he's faring much better, but he seems to be trying.

“You turned back. How long will it last?”

"I... actually I turned back early. I wasn’t expecting it, based on evidence from the past years, for at least another week.” Dean looks up sharply and Castiel sees something in his eyes. “It could just be coincidence." Castiel really tries to stop himself, but a tiny flicker of hope nevertheless alights in his heart, too.

"Wait, if I understood you before, there is a way for your curse to be broken, yes? We never got around to the specifics, but you made that clear." Dean's eyes are narrowed thoughtfully and Castiel can only helplessly admire his lover's cleverness. Dean was always a quick thinker.

"It's true. There was a prophecy, not long after I got turned.  _ You who holds the dragon’s heart, accept all he has to offer and take it deep inside of you, for only if your emptiness is quelled shall the dragon’s power become the power of the man. _ No one was ever able to figure out what it meant though."

Dean's staring at Castiel. Why is he staring like that? It's making Castiel uncomfortable. Is he… does he not believe in prophecies? He was working at a temple, surely Dean's used to divine prophecies?

"Wait. You're actually serious," Dean suddenly says and Castiel blinks.

"Yes?"

"Oh my god." Dean's blushing and still, Castiel doesn't get it. 

"This is so embarrassing. Please tell me this prophecy didn't come out of the temple I worked at. I might die if it was Michael or Zachariah who…"

"It was an oracle, but Dean, what…."

"Don't you get it, Cas? You who holds the dragon's heart." Dean blushes even more profoundly, refusing to meet Castiel's eyes. "Accept all he has to offer and  _ take it deep inside you." _ Dean rubs his forehead and blushes even harder, right down to his chest, which Cas can see because Dean’s still mostly undressed, his form bearing marks from their coupling… oh. Oh. 

"Oh Maker. Really?" Castiel says faintly. Surely that can't be it. No, that's impossible. Dozens of wise men and sages discussed the prophecy’s riddle and Dean's saying it really pertains to him putting his… into… no. Oh Maker. Castiel suddenly wishes the ground would open up and swallow him whole. If anyone were to ever find out how the curse was broken…

"But, but how do I know it's really broken?" he asks helplessly.

"How would I know, you're the scholar and mage!" Dean says, hand still over his face and refusing to meet Castiel's eyes. He's still blushing so prettily, it really brings out his freckles and it's distracting and very unfair.

If the first half of the prophecy referred to their coupling, then the second half... _ the dragon’s power become the power of the man.  _ The power of the man? 

Castiel closes his eyes against the distraction of Dean's freckles and reaches inside himself. His magic hums strong, much stronger than he can ever remember feeling it. It's still reaching for Dean, like it has from the moment they reconnected, but it's also different. Notably different, the color, the sound… something's just a bit off. Not bad off, just… not like it used to be. There's an edge where there was never one, almost like… like a scale, like a… he reaches out, tugging, feeling, tapping into the new part and…

Dean's gasp causes Castiel's eyes to fly open.

"Cas, you're… wow, you're magnificent."

Dean's looking up at him in utter awe.

Castiel lifts one giant scaled paw, studying it. He looks at Dean, Dean beaming up at him. Dean who has loved Castiel for years. Dean, who broke the unbreakable curse. 

Castiel’s tail swishes. Very deliberately, he uses a claw to pry loose one tiny blue scale, placing it safely on the table. Then he opens his wings wide and trumpets in utter elation, the walls of the tower shaking under his might and glory. Dean, with his hands over his ears, is grinning in wild delight.

Giddy with the rush of unprecedented power, Castiel reaches into himself again, finding the scaley edge with more ease and again he tugs, feeling the shift come over him.

It's a weird feeling, but it's not painful or confusing anymore. It's just part of who he is now. Who he was always meant to be. It's as if a part of him that didn't fit was turned around and put back in the right way up and now it's all smooth. One whole instead of jagged pieces. And the key... the key to it was Dean, all along.

On human feet, Castiel surges forward and kisses his lover with human lips, his human heart singing in joy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aless: There, there. After that brief bit of angst, we made it all better. Fluff ahead from here on out and we're almost at the end! Just one more update.   
If you enjoy this story, please take a moment to let us know what worked for you and what you liked best. We love hearing from you!  
(Also I promise, no more potato jokes.) (Maybe.)


	28. Chapter 28

\- Dean -

Ok, wow. He’s got an armful of warm, happy Cas, Cas who’s human but can turn into a dragon at will. And Cas feels so good in his arms, so solid and perfect, Dean never wants to let him go.

Dean squeezes him, and Cas smiles and tucks his head under Dean’s chin, resting his cheek on Dean’s still bare chest while his messy hair tickles Dean’s nose. Dean can’t help himself, he presses a kiss on the top of Castiel’s head.

"So, what now?” Cas asks, his words muffled.

"You tell me, you’re the prince. Your wish is my command, your Majest—ow!”

Cas tweaks his nipple again, softer this time, but it stings just as much.

A part of Dean still wants to run away with Cas. No one would know Cas can control the whole dragon thing now if Cas doesn’t tell them, after all. And here, or in the mountains...no one would challenge Dean for the lost prince's hand.

If they go back...what if Hannah isn’t as accepting as Cas thinks? And what if it isn’t up to them? What if the king and queen won’t allow it?

What if they marry Cas off to someone else? What if they send Dean back to the temple? They’d take Sammy’s tuition for sure; after all, Dean isn’t exactly a sacrifice anymore and they’d know.

Fuck, so many things can go wrong.

"Dean, your heart is beating too fast. What’s wrong, love?”

"You...you have too many responsibilities to stay here with me,” Dean forces out. "But, Cas…”

His voice breaks on Castiel’s name, and somehow, after all this time, Cas can still understand Dean even with his shitty inability to communicate properly.

"No one will take you from me, Dean, or me from you. I won’t allow it.”

"But if they do?” he whispers.

"Then I’ll turn into a dragon and eat them.”

Dean laughs wetly. Yeah, that would do it.


	29. Chapter 29

\- Castiel -

"I've stayed hidden away for too long already, Dean. I won't permit it any longer. I want all the world to know that I found you. I won't hide you and I won't hide myself. I will burn anyone who dares defy us!"

Castiel has never felt so strong and powerful, but this is right. He's no longer a victim, he's in control of his destiny now, and he has made his choice.

"You're my choice, Dean. I want to spend my life with you and fuck anyone who says differently. We'll go back home together, and I'll tell my parents that I will not marry Hannah. I will make a new alliance with their kingdom, a new, purely political connection. And once that's out of the way…"

Castiel reaches for the scale he liberated from his own skin, radiant like a gem and sparkling with dragon magic, and holds it out to Dean.

"Dean Winchester, will you do me the honor of staying by my side?"


	30. Chapter 30

\- Dean -

Dean's poor heart almost stops again. Even in his happily-ever-after thoughts, he never imagined a scenario where Cas publicly claims him.

Where Cas goes back home, and takes Dean with him.

It's more than he ever expected, and everything he never let himself want, only… only…

He can't breathe. "I'm not, I'm not worth that, Cas."

Cas stiffens and stands back up, eyebrow cocked high. "Dean Winchester."

"Cas, babe, seriously, you can have anyone, you can—"

"I don't want  _ anyone, _ I want the man I fell in love with. The man I've been in love with for years."

For...for… "For years?" Dean squeaks, but it's a very manly… ah, fuck. It wasn't a manly squeak at all. It was pathetic, which further emphasizes…

"Yes, for years," Cas repeats.

"Me… me too."

Cas smiles. "Then will the man I fell in love with, the man I've loved for years, who's loved me for years, with whom I share a most profound bond, and who broke a draconic curse on me through that, er, that love and that bond… will that man come back with me?"

Dean can feel the heat of a blush in his ears and cheeks, moving down his neck to his chest, mingling with the warmth seeping into his body from Cas. From Cas, who's still naked and hot as fuck, and how is this Dean's life? "Well, when you put it that way…"

"Dean," Cas reprimands him again, but this time there's a smile in it.

"Yeah, Cas, I'll go back with you." He takes the scale from Cas, feeling it settle, cool and heavy for its size in his palm. The blue is truly spectacular, shimmery and beautiful, like Cas himself.

A thought occurs to Dean and he smirks. “Just promise me I’ll never have to peel another potato.”

“Why would you have to peel potatoes?” Cas asks in complete bewilderment. “Oh come on, you seemed to like my cooking last night. Don’t tell me you’ll never ask me to cook for you! I seem to remember you especially liked my apple pie and my burgers.”

“Hm, true. So I can have apple pie and burgers but no potatoes?” Cas looks very serious, like he’s really pondering the implications of this.

“No potatoes.”

“Right well, I’ll just have to subsist on other fare then, won’t I?” And Castiel, the bastard, steps up to Dean and, with a completely serious face, licks Dean’s cheek.

“Cas, what are you doing, stop it! I’ll make you burger and pie, I promise!”

"Good. I won't have to eat you, then."

Dean coughs. "Well, I seem to remember, uh, being  _ eaten _ by you wasn't…" he clears his throat. "It wasn't all that bad...was pretty good, actually. That tongue of yours..."

He tilts back to see Castiel's face, which is a rather delightful shade of pink now. Good, now he's not the only one off balance. In fact…

"Hey, you think you could partially turn? I really had a thing for your tail, you know. Really did it for me…"

This time Cas is the one to pull back, brow even higher as he spins them, then shoves Dean backwards, tumbling him into the nest. Dean barely has time to settle himself in the softness before Cas is on him, pouncing in a way that reminds Dean of his draconic form, and yeah.

“Let's find out, shall we?” Cas murmurs into Dean’s skin, and yeah. He could get used to being with Cas like this. In whatever form his lover chose to take. Tail or no tail.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ada here! Welcome to the end of the 'tail', as it were! I very much hope you enjoyed it.
> 
> I have to say, when I made that first potato joke, I didn't expect it to turn into such a thing XD. Love you guys, and it's been a pleasure, as always!


End file.
